THE SOUNDS OF MORNING

The rustle of paper, the crunching of toast,
These are the morning sounds of which I hate most.
I wake up sleepy not feeling my best,
These are the sounds that my patience do test.

Not wanting to talk I hide away,
But the person that's with me is awake and gay.
To try and halt the noise I dread,
I think I'll just go back to bed.