Morning Surprise

As the morning sun
begins its ascent
and the journey of the night's story
slowly melts into the light's abyss
I stretch
as if I'm reaching for that sliver of light
that seems to have dedicated itself to the becoming a part of the room's decor

A slight ache
welcomes each move I make
as if age
has unknowingly crept up on me
it starts with the shoulder shrug
then the neck roll
followed by the arching of my back
until finally
my legs are motivated to dance across the floor
to the bathroom

Yep,
the day has started
except
she's still asleep
so my movements become stealth like
so as to not awaken her
gently, I open the door,
yawn,
and then close it
as quietly as if I never opened it in the first place

What to do now . . . ah
coffee
along with breakfast in bed
bet that'll surprise her
and like a busy bee I'm off to scrambling eggs
frying bacon
along with slicing some fruit
and making toast until voila, breakfast
time to wake her but to my surprise
there she was smiling
waiting
for me to finish my happy dance
“"Good morning chef"
"Good morning baby"

the poem.
( She is lucky )