The morning light creeps past the shades,
tugs at my sleeping eyes.
Cover wrapped, I play charades
as I beg it to desist.
It understands but still cascades
which comes as no surprise.
The smell of coffee fills the air;
its incense calls to me.
It pulls me from my fabric lair.
I'm helpless to resist.
I bow my head, give thanks in prayer.
One more day I get to see.
Each day's a gift I celebrate
with this simple ritual.
There's no reason to deviate
from what seems to work.
I won't tempt the hand of fate;
it's now habitual.
An entry for the November Round of "SENIOR CENTER FORUM"
Prompt: Must use the words "give (ing) thanks."
Form: GENSIS ~ a form, conceived by Walt Wojtanik, based on the musical group of the same name. It consists of three six-line stanzas with a rhyme scheme of A B A C A B. There is no set meter for the lines.
sacraments ~ something regarded as possessing a sacred character or mysterious significance.
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