Morning poetry.

Lightly I fall asleep,
gently I am woken up,
by the tinkering of the world gone,
going by.
by the thoughts I should never show,
by the pillow that doesn't sit,
under my earlobe,
under my hair.

A smell wafts in from the kitchen,
from the lunchtime activity the world is in,
i sit under my covers,
still and composed.

The wind out side my window,
blows like a song long gone,
the raindrops patter,
on the window sill that still has my heart,
I left out to dry last night.

Lightly I sleep,
gently I wake.
Maybe I'll just,
get up and bake a cake.