It's barely dawn as I begin to wake,
Caressed by the light of morn.
Outside sparrows claim their stake,
To return to slumber? I'm torn.
Sleep calls my name, a whisper at most,
her gentle touch tugs at my eyes.
Enveloping me, holding me close,
What wonderful dreams there lies.
The promise of morning fades away,
I leave the sparrows to their song.
The beckoning of sleep outweighs,
To her familiar warmth I belong.
-b.m.
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