I Wake Each Morning

I wake each morning now, regretful of the loss that daylight brings when it destroys a man's own dreams, I do not fiddle with my toes nor do I toss since she has come into my life, or so it seems. You see, the waking hours are not quite enough I need each night when I can breathe her pheromones perhaps most do not ever think or give a stuff a quick release and take your cue from common zones. She likes me huddling right behind the sweetest bum hands resting lightly but with meaning on the Twins, sometimes she takes into her mouth my happy thumb and he comes out, so full of wetness as he grins. You say whatever would I want or need to grab with her in sleep and waking up to roses red, I say the gift of major science or the gab can never substitute the time in our bed. You see, I AM the one who's smitten to the core, I'd love her toes if they had stepped in cow manure, and when it comes to wanting more, I DO want more and of the choice I am delighted and so sure. If you, my friend, had ever laid your beady eyes upon my LOVE you'd never ever sleep again, tis like the sun that from the yoghurt may arise though cream is dairy and they rarely rate a ten. I will not share with you the day nor any night, and close this snippet of a peeper as I turn Let us be happy so the gremlins see the light but my own lantern will be silent, and will burn for her and me, there are voyeurs but we ignore and when we touch her fingers feel like midnight fern so can you see I want it all, and ask for more?