Where am I?
This looks like bed
And smells like a beginning.
Another zesty day ahead
On which my hopes are pinning;

May the rhythm of the day
Run not too slow or rapid,
And may the breakfast on my tray
Taste not too strong or vapid;

And may I feel a light release
From darkness and constriction
And may my brow not show a crease;
My tongue not speak with friction.

If the climate’s not the best;
Windy, cold and pouring,
May I not join the moaning rest
(such talk is always boring)

And may my hands not grope for things
–  May my head recall
The joy that simple graces bring,
The wonder in the small.

Now be the day a little wave,
Or a swollen billow;
May I thank it what it gave
When I re-meet this pillow.

May to-day be as above
– though should it disagree,
At least I have the one I love
Breathing next to me.

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