Despite the Morning

In a warm bed,

I'm concealed in crinkled and clumped sheets,

of a good night's rest.

Instead of hearing the noisy clock,

ticking away to wake me up,

I twisted tightly around in toasty tangled blankets.

Even though the pesky sun peeks in my window,

I smother my head in soft silky pillows.

While a distant call of my mother rings in my ears,

I lazily lay lovingly in loose close. 

Despite the day,

trying to wake me of my bliss,

I remain in my santuary,

of peace and indolence.