A poem based on life with a toddler and cats. When bedtime starts at seven.
My Poem – Bedtime Starts at Seven
The morning dawns promptly at four.
I have to get up to open the door.
The cats want out and I want sleep.
So I drag myself up with hardly a peep.
I handle the kitties and lay back down.
Only to realize I’m awake and I frown.
I was only up three times last night.
I couldn’t sleep until two is not right.
The day drags on with all my duties.
Finally it is time to play with my cuties.
Bath time is done, dinner is over.
The baby is down and adults takeover.
But the adults are sick and they say with glee.
It’s after seven and surely you see.
Bedtime is past and I must retire.
Before my mood becomes too dire.
Read more about my cats, life, and home. Check out my books.
