A waking sigh slips, past sleepy pouted lips.
Stretches start from hips, to toes and fingertips.
Tingles travel through, the being that is you.
Rippling whence it grew, a sweet warming brew.
Blue eyes part slow, giving me their glow.
Butterflies then grow, as that is all we know.
Days may come and end, leaving like a friend.
In our arms we spend, all that time will lend.