Saturday Morning

On a Saturday morning, I wake at nine,

My stomach growls and I'm ready to dine,

I smell the breakfast in the air,

The smell is pleasent, but first, a prayer,

I close my eyes and bow my head,

I say, "AMEN!," and fix my bed,

I follow the scent of bacon and eggs,

But my nose went farther than my tired legs,

I trip over my feet and almost fell,

But my nose continued to follow the smell.

I look up to see the warm breakfast ahead,

I see the eggs, bacon, and a piece of bread,

I rush to the table and grab my fork,

And as I eat, I think 'I hope this isn't pork,'

As I look at the calendar, I see a warning,

It says 'April Fools! It's Monday morning!'