It’s Home #2

It’s always a good morning when I wake up naturally

And it doesn’t hold a five year old yelling out “MUUUUMMY

I need the toilet and I think I’ve spilt milk down the stairs

And can you get the vacuum out, ’cause I’ve pulled out some dog hairs”

It’s always a good morning when I’m not woken by a bark

And the Patterdale at the window tells me it’s no longer dark

“Be honest” he always seems to say, “you know you want to take me out”

And then he gets his lead out and my dreams are filtered out.

It’s always a good morning when the alarm clock is switched off

And I’m not woken by the husband’s snuffling, ┬ásnoring, ┬ásneezy cough

I look out of the window onto my rainy street

And can feel the pull of nature and its dancing, rhythmic beat

It’s not a treasure island, and it’s not paradise

And on a rainy grimy day, it’s not even very nice

But it’s my house and it’s my street and it’s where I’m calling home

So I’ll go back to bed now – Queen in my lie-in throne

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