Breakfast In Bed

Line upon line I have written and chapter after chapter I have read Sometimes in pajamas, or a sarong and once even unclad My craving mind, with meat and cheese , I have fed Been blessed a few times with balm delicately rubbed on my aching head With satisfaction, I have whimpered in a voice of lead I am mostly coy to the core and still unwed Last summer I got overwhelmed and let go of my Ted I don’t regret my choices or feel sad This morning, as I picked up my writing pad I felt sudden urges to be served breakfast in bed Whip cream, maple syrup and some romance now I must add To be! served, just this once; least tomorrow I be dead.