Forget the nuances
I rake the grass and pile the leaves
Trim some branches, off the trees
Do the chores of the early dawn
Smell my breakfast on the breeze.
I love the crisp of mornings' air,
With the wisp of bacon there
The announcing birds calling morn
My wives call in her night wear.
It is a passion very strong,
The aura of evensong,
A place that I am truly drawn
A feeling that I, belong.
I count my blessings one on one,
Each coming of the mornings sun.
It seems the reason I was born
For that matter anyone.
And when I lay me down to sleep
I pray this kingdom ever keep.