Take Your Time When Getting Up. Poem by Tom Billsborough

I rise just like a loaf of bread
Now proving in the warmth
I rise, my stomach says
cos I've been overfed.
I rise, my dear, and take your hand.
Your eyes are really stunning.
Come walk with me along this beach
Along the yellow strand.
I rise to watch the irises arising near my pond,
Like swords they stand erect before the wind.
I rise each morning from my sleep so deep
But in my dozy state I end up in a heap
As both my legs for a trouser leg compete.
I rise as Mr Purry now demands his grooming,
Though for my drug, my coffee I am gagging.
I don't know what today will be surprising.
Maybe if I keep on rising I'll do myself a mischief..
Like hit the ceiling... Oh what grief.
Perhaps I'll stay in bed and like my friend
Declare a Duvet day and so unbend
My limbs so weary from all this rising
And write a verse concerning flattening instead
As I stretch out upon my comfy bed.