Waking up country
puts a smile on my face as
the golden sun tells me it is daylight,
my eyes open to its glorious sight.
Waking up country
is an open kitchen window dressed with
red and white gingham curtains flowing
with a breeze who insists on ablowing.
Waking up country
is a walk through the fields watching
monarch butterflies fly here and there,
landing on flowers everywhere.
Waking up country
are cows scattered throughout the hill,
munching away or lying around,
content and not making a sound.
Waking up country
are feelings of continuous joy
as the wild birds stop at the feeder,
pecking away at the suet seeder.
Waking up country
means hanging laundry on the line
with wooden clothespins grasping on tight
in case a strong wind wants to fight.
Waking up country
is a blissful dream since getting
away from a congested and dirty city
which is not considered pretty .
Waking up country
is a blessing of a lifetime,
so grateful that this pace is slower,
and there is time to push the lawn mower.