For breakfast I have a cup of tea,
And a little granola to satisfy me.
For lunch I may have a piece of fruit,
Or maybe a carrot, or some other root.
My dinner depends upon my wife;
Whatever she cooks sustains my life.
When morning comes I am still asleep,
Lost in dreams and in slumber so deep.
It is in the afternoon I start my day,
Thinking about what I may have to say.
I contemplate what it is I might write.
Most of my writing is done at night.
One thing always does come to mind,
Whatever may happen, please be kind.

(Published by Lone Stars Poetry Magazine December 2016)