Six Thirty
The time's six thirty, Its well after dawn
And a kookaburra laughs on a neighbours lawn
The dogs are awaking by the milkman on his rounds
And the streets start to fill with all its daily sounds
Joggers are out jogging fighting the bulge
For too many pastries and drinks they've indulged
The boys are asleep wrapped up in their beds
maybe dreams of the pokemon going around in their Heads.
Bread's in the toaster and the coffee is on
The radio plays softly an old sixties song
The postman brings letters good news and bad
A postcard for mother and a gas bill for dad
A new day begins and what does it hold
Only as time passes by will its secrets unfold
By C.R. Carroll