I think I’m in a state of shock.
I’m angry at my alarm clock.
It does a mean and selfish job:
The hours of sleep it’s tasked to rob.
I’d just got used to lying in
Without the early waking din.
I’m old. I need my beauty sleep
It slows time’s lines’ relentless creep
Across my poor unheeding face
(That lack of sleep makes grow apace).
For ten short lazy holidays
(which passed in such a happy daze)
I didn’t need its strident cries
I didn’t have a time to rise;
And I could let the winter sun
Wake me when the night was done
Gently filtered through the shade
My waking time softly delayed
Feeling feline, I could so doze.
Greet blessed dawn with sweet repose.
No! Not for me the early run,
No, not until my sleep is done.
It took nine days to learn to heed
Not the clock, but my own need.
Nine days before I learned to rise
Late – just drowse, and rest my eyes.
Nine days, adjust, one day of peace
I did not want that ease to cease.
I want to lie in every day.
Farewell, sweet holiday.