The Slumber Poem by priscah Mutswenje

In the morning's embrace, I set to leave,
With plans so firm, or so I'd believe.
But time played a trick, a sly little jest,
And I found myself lingering in slumber's nest.

Like a sloth in a hammock, I clung to my bed,
As the clock tick-tocked, shaking its head.
I set to leave early, with zeal and with zest,
Yet the pillow's allure, I couldn't divest.

The alarm, a rooster's call so loud,
Echoing promises, both empty and proud.
I dreamt of swift rabbits and hares in a race,
Yet my limbs moved like a tortoise, a sluggish pace.

The morning sun sighed, 'I've been waiting for you, '
As I fumbled and stumbled, tying one shoe.
My exit delayed, a comedy, a jest,
A dance with lateness, an unwelcome guest.

Like a snail on a journey, slow and serene,
I navigated the morning, a chaotic scene.
'I set to leave early, ' my excuse, a bit late,
But humor softened the blow of my tardy fate.