Good Morning

Good morning, my lovely, sweetness, my dear
Please don’t balk me when I’m truly sincere

This is no hotel, I grant you, ‘tis true
But never rebuff my words to eschew
That, though I may lie here beside you and chew
The fat, on which house job next we shall do,
Plans for the garden in need of a zoo
The things of which we dream, oft through and through
The things that we wish to do and do and do.

You need to know it’s important to me
To acknowledge you every day (and at tea)
Cause I’ll not take you for granted, you see
Without you, I’ve no friend, not even flea
I’d have to get on the phone, not for free
Say hello to a stranger, and he or she
Would have nothing to say, that’s satisfactory.

So forgive me, you really do have to hear
Good morning, my lovely, sweetness, my dear.

© 2009 John Anstie

(View the author’s commentary on this poem)

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