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Writing in Bed.
Dawn is the early perch from which
to drop into the day.
Propped up with pillows,
and a cushion at my back.
The open bedroom window catches
the early morning slant…
Beneath the tall Mimosa Tree
Sweet tangled flowers grow.
I hear the gentle pigeon’s trill.
A small bird darts between the leaves,
Then….all is very quiet…very still.
In the quietude of dawn
Small random thoughts may find their wings…
Perhaps consolidate…and form….
Before the Bells of Life begin to ring,
Relieved of guilt I now confess,
Detached from all that worldly rush.
To write in bed’s a special kind of bliss.
Colette, and Proust, Capote, they knew this.
Kristine Byrne 25th July 2021
Illustration….Shayla Rae