Paul S. Gifford
Many folks grumble on Monday mornings.
They grunt and roll their eyes as they roll out of bed.
But not me –
I relish them.
I bounce out of bed, chipper and energized.
Moments later I am to be found
sitting in my own secret garden
With its high ivy covered fences,
And I contemplate as I sip my first cup of coffee of the day.
(Does anything ever taste better than that first morning sip of coffee?)
It doesn’t matter what the weather throws at me –
Come rain or shine – there I will be.
I watch the bounty of colorful birds dart and play,
flitting and fluttering from one bird feeder to the next.
I feel my two dogs sighing as they lie contently on my feet.
Chester on my right,
Tasha on my left.
They know their place;
They know my feet…
And before seven and I turn on my computer,
I steal those magic moments –
I idly consider how I am going to fill my day and my week.
I daydream of writing whimsical prose
or a mind-boggling mystery,
or maybe even a gruesome horror story or two –
But it is full of endless possibilities,
only limited by my imagination.
Yes – Monday mornings are my extraordinary, magical, private times.
©Copyright May 8, 2006 by Paul S. Gifford