A Morning Sonnet

I occasionally have five-minute periods when I swear that Shakespeare enters my body. This hasn't happened in a while because Debbie Downer has apparently bought a season pass. ("By the way, it's official: I can't have children.") Today, however, I am reminded of a sonnet ole Bill and I wrote one morning while at work in DC.

A Morning Sonnet

Mere words cannot express the deep desire
I had to stay in bed this early morn.
As if some cold extinguish-ed the fire
and left me feeling altogether worn.
I lay and tossed and turned in brief denial
that Sun had re-assumed his rightful place
as the bright and cheer'ly overrated smile
on Sky's regretfully ever-lightening face.
But up from depths of pillow'd night I flew,
with speed unseen except in days of old,
my highest, noblest dreams to now pursue,
or see what boredoms Day might now unfold.
     I yearn to see what Day has got in store
     but yearn for bedtime's riches even more.

Good morning, World!