Don’t You Love Mornings?
The sun’s rays dance merrily across my face.
My clock sounds the alarm.
I stand up and stretch,
preparing to face another day of school.
My eyes struggle to stay open; I am so tired.
It’s just a typical weekday morning.
Outside, everything is alive and aflutter in the morning
rush. My soft washcloth rubs gently against my face,
in an effort to drive away the tiredness.
I hear the faint alarm
of the toaster, letting me know my school
breakfast is ready to eat. The wonderful scent stretches
up toward my nose. The savory aroma is overpowering; I stretch
out my arms to retrieve my morning
bagel. It tastes so much better than the school
lunches. The delicious flavor of cream cheese and bagel causes my face
to radiate dreaminess. The alarm
of my iPod touch beeps, reminding me it’s time to pack up. My face falls tiredly.
I lope to my backpack in lazy, tired
circles. I release my grasp on the stretchy
book cover of my textbook and my alarmingly
bright pencil pouch; allowing the morning
light to glance off them, tumble down in front of my face,
and into my backpack for school.
I continue to drop the rest of my supplies into my school
bag. I peer inside my pack to find my books tired
and worn from such careless loading. I lift my face
to check how many minutes I have left ‘til the bus comes; I look across the stretch
of the wooden flooring. I realize the time of morning,
and my eyes widen in alarm.
The driver honks the horn, much to my alarm.
I’m going to be late for school!
This is turning out to be a thrilling morning.
I grab my backpack and run out the door tiredly.
My feet bound down the steps, my legs stretching
towards the bus’s open door. The wind blows fiercely in my face.
My labored, scrunched-up face transforms into one of alarm.
I use all my strength to stretch my strides so I won’t miss the school
bus. It drives away and I scream tiredly in rage, expressing my hatred for mornings.
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Note from the Poet:
This is just a poem about typical school mornings that almost everyone can relate to. I've actually never missed the school bus (yay for me!) so this is all made up. :) This poem's format is also a "sestina". A sestina is when the last words of the lines in each stanza are the same. (This is when you go, "Ohhh! I never noticed that!") There's also a certain pattern for which word each line has to end with. For more info, just look up "sestina" on Google. Writing these kinds of poems are especially fun because you can give inanimate objects personification and you have a feeling of accomplishment when you finally get the poem to work out. It took me like an hour to finish this! Vote&comment for my effort! :)
