Saturday Morning: a poem

Staff Writer
As the distant sound of a dream
Becomes the birds’ cheerful tune,
A gentle breeze caresses my hair
And a ray of sun warms the toes on my feet.
With my knees close to my chest,
My blanket embraces my body,
Its light and soft covers
Enveloping me from the cool morning air.
Slowly my mind grasps reality
And my eyes start to adjust to the real world,
When I stretch out my extremities,
The dust blows away,
And the wheels begin to turn.
As I finally sit up from where I lay,
I prepare for the day and anticipate
My next simple paradise.