Tide of birdsong washing over the pillow,
morning light zebrastriping the wall.
I surface to bubbles of drowsy excitement
drifting up from under the bed.
The old dog is dreamhunting again.
Fug of ancient canine wafts up,
a friendly embrace.
The world is at peace.
whypoetry 
September 22nd, 2018 at 2:57 pm
Volltreffer!
September 24th, 2018 at 7:59 am
These two must really have got comfortably used to each other – I still smirk at the fug resembling a friendly embrace. Good one!
February 4th, 2019 at 4:39 pm
Reblogged this on Nina.