Breakfast In Bed

He lies on his blanket
and I push my feet underneath.
I eat my breakfast in bed
and then it's time for second sleep.
When the children wake
the cat and I are fortified.
We do this every single day
because we've had worse morning times.
We've seen the other side,
we've been waited on.
We've had to smile and lie
through the burnt toast plastered in cinnamon
that even when eaten with the utmost care
spews crumbs on the quilt.
For me it's even more unfair
because the cat is not expected to eat it
eventhough I do not like toast either.
So, we have our breakfasts in secret
ready to truthfully attest
that we have already eaten.

The New Foal

When leaving the field
the children wanted to climb
over the gate, five feet
up then down the other side.
The eldest sprung over,
it was the first time that she
did not wait for her younger
sister to prove the possibility.
She had tall confidence.
The youngest, frustrated by her
shorter legs,
pointed out that we weren't
there to climb the gate,
but to see the new foal.
They felt they had a stake
after feeding the mare nextdoor
for the last few months.
We had seen the pair were safe and sound
so that was a good result.
Such things matter more in lockdown.