My childhood alarm clock was varied, often ‘twas
Waking to the sound and smell of coffee perking.
Blurp, blurp, goes the old aluminum peculator,
A signal it was five am and mom was awake,
Bustling about the kitchen, making toast with jam.
I snuggle under the fresh smelling sheets and blankets,
Knowing I have another hour before I hear
Dad’s voice calling, “Leona! Time to get up.”
Those sounds, smells and sights are now memories
Of carefree days in my Illinois country home.