The Soft Stretch

She slips from the warmth of her bed Shaking her tangled but soft to the touch hair Free to drip down her shoulders Her still sleepy stretch Of long limbs With a lingering yawn And lashes that flash as she opens her eyes To the pardon me morning's arrival Smoothing the silken threads of covers That kept her unaware Of what the world was doing While she slept What she has kept in her thoughts Were thoughts of if he had slept well Away from her gentle whisper And if true he did miss her Pouring the perfect blend Of coffee and calm Into her oversized cup She wishes he'd wake up And drink up The full bodied richness of her love