I slowly come to, feeling well rested,

And treasuring every sweet dream.

I roll over, arise, and practically float,

Greeted by mid-morning sunbeam.

I slipper and robe, lured out by

The smell of breakfast made for me.

Leisurely, I read, drink and eat

An omelet: well-stuffed, juice and tea.

Sated, I take up pen to write

Dash off a hundred and twenty

Sure to be published manuscripts,

Journal articles, and poems aplenty.

The mailman brings bags of checks

As the neighbor gawks

And I struggle under the load

I hear him yell-Get a bigger box.