Day's Child

Day's Child

It's warm and snug in bed,
settled under the comforting weight
of my blanket seal
against the cold, crisp night air.

But outside, through doorways
and arch framed verandahs
and rooms
- now all still and cool,
sleeping in the cold night,
comes a peering face:
the sun.

I feel the tendrils of warm,
I sense
- more than see
through night sealed eyelids,
the tiptoing light,
sneaking quietly,
like a child
questing towards
parents' early morning bed,
until, with a last rush and giggle
child and the dawn,
dawn,
day's young child,
are here,
laughing and snuggling,
warming my bed,
our house,
life.

© Kayleen White, 2009

I undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit, of course :)

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