Breakfast

 

But really, I just want to make you breakfast.

I know you love the glitter of dancing shoes,

The sounds of—Wild nights!  Wild nights!

But really, wouldn’t you rather have these scrambled eggs?

 

I brown the butter just right, throw in spinach, potatoes, cheese…

I’ll let you choose—my dear!

 

On warm days I’ll blend up a smoothie instead.

Bananas, ice, yogurt, berries:

black, blue, straw, ras—razzle dazzle it’ll be!

Drink it all down, don’t worry about the dishes,

Just let me kiss that froth from your lip.

 

I know I keep saying my love is like a red red rose,

Like red red flowing blood,

But I’ve got this watermelon juice that’s just as red;

And pretty good—I juiced a whole one just for you!

My love is like this red red jug.

 

I can’t even count the ways I love you

Just like I can’t count all the ways I can make you potatoes.

You’ve got French, salad, baked varieties,

You’ve got taters and tots, hash or mashed, au gratin,

pancake dish—let’s just skip that summer trip to India

And make samosas!

 

They say it’s the most important meal,

But to me it’s the best, brightest, most amazing one of all!

Just let me make you breakfast all year long

Through the fall’s fall

And the spring’s spring,

Through every shining morning that may come!

 

Even on days when the world seems bleak

When storms and heartaches shriek,

And I might have forgotten to go shop for groceries…

Stay and have breakfast with me!

We can always have a bowl of cereal.

I’ll always have cereal for you.