"Lazy Winter Morning"
by Miranda Farrand
Hoarfrost traces tiny fingers upon the cold glass of the windowpane.
Minute crystal trees grow in forests along the wooden frame.
Sunlight breaks through in fragments of rainbow hues,
Spreading in patchwork patterns upon the carpeted floor.
A teapot whistle blows on an old cast-iron stove,
Sending off little jets of steam from the spout.
Fresh-baked sugar cookies cool on baking racks
Perched upon the Formica counter top.
Sounds of a newspaper crinkle and shift
As page by page is read and pondered
By an elderly gent puffing contentedly on a favored pipe.
A gray and black tabby cat curls in a snugly pose upon a crocheted afghan
That covers the back of a worn, cozy armchair.
Whiskers twitch...one, two, three...
Up he arches in a gymnast's stretch,
Turning around he lies back down and continues to dream.
A little mouse seeing his chance,
Dashes out from his hiding place amongst the potted plants.
Scurrying quickly across the floor he makes his way to the kitchen door,
Off it sample a fresh-baked cookie on a lazy winter morn.
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