Like a tsunami washing over the shores
The morning sun washes over my pores
Under the covers I reach for my wife
Feeling nothing, I swung like a knife
Where could she be? I ask myself
I strain my eyes to read the clock on the shelf
Eleven o’clock I overslept again
Even though it is the weekend
I pull the covers back and stagger from bed
Yawning involuntarily and scratching my head
I make my way through the hall and down the stairs
That’s when I see them reclining on chairs
My wife is stretched out with my child
So gently they rock like one compiled
Carefully I move to not make a sound
Swinging my head I look all around
In the corner I spy my camera laying
Not to wake them, I start my praying
Turning I focus and get a good angle
Of a daughter and mother so entangled
The flash goes off, their eyes open wide
My daughters arm swings up trying to hide
I have my sneaky picture, she is too late
I smile to myself because it turned out great
Original work of:
Jason E. Lee
