I’m enjoying this third chapter,
Only three pages left,
And what’s left of my coffee,
Sitting on my left.
Over my right shoulder shines dim lamp,
But it’s just right light when angled right.
The rest of the room is still dark.
Still, with the chill of anticipated thrill.
For now, I’m glad I grabbed this blanket,
Draping knees and ottoman.
And this pillow to prop the object of my gaze.
Three chapters down, more to come.
I’m watching close as my second pour disappears,
Two cups to the bottom too soon.
I also watch the room slightly lighten,
As the sky outside hints at dawn.
The lamplight always fades,
When the house is brightened.
As pleasant solitude pales,
When the home is awakened.
Oh, I need to get ready for the shine.
Up! To bathroom, to kitchen, and back.
Silently, stealthily, with mug in hand,
Two cups down, more to come.
I’m wondering who will be first.
Which one of our wonders? Impossible to predict,
But I do predict it won’t be long,
Because the sun now reaches in,
Back in my place, I can already feel her arms,
If touching my chair, then beds upstairs too.
Creak. She rises! Soon to descend,
On the steps, she’ll pause.
I’ll gesture and grin, and she’ll move again.
Then book aside and coffee forgotten,
I’ll open the blanket as she snuggles close.
One daughter down, more to come.
This poem attempts to capture the anticipation of greeting my children at dawn by describing the moments before. I never know which of my four daughters will surface first, but whoever it is always supplies more than enough joy to surpass the pleasures of the solitary moments that precede.
As far as the composition, I paid no attention to meter and tried to maintain a tasteful balance of rhyme and wordplay. All three stanzas make reference to the anticipation of the final moment. The reference to number in each stanza provides a countdown. The thesis is supplied in the middle four lines of the poem. Also, notice the initial ambiguity of the pronouns “her” and “she” in stanza three between the sun and the first daughter out of bed. The ambiguity is removed as the poem concludes.