An ode to my morning

I'm a complicated woman,

And though I’m saved by grace,

There are those certain mornings

When I shouldn’t show my face.

By the time I’m up and moving,

I’ve thought of a dozen things

I really shouldn’t think about

Until it’s dawn in Beijing.

I feel I never have the time

To get ready and to work

Even when I’m early

I still can go berserk

I head on down to breakfast,

Too much on my mind

I ask a simple question

Not wanting an answer, I find.

When the answer I wasn’t wanting

Comes to me anyway,

I find my temper rising,

And my nerves begin to fray.

My mother has done nothing

She’s only trying to help

I know I’m over-reacting

But I can’t control my yelp.

My tone begins to sharpen

As I try to calm myself

There are so many topics

We should leave up on the shelf.

As the seconds tick by faster

And I know my hair’s still wet

I determine I must get going

There’s no real reason to fret.

I chastise my own behavior

As I quickly blow-dry my mane

Reminding myself I’m cruel,

Ridiculous and lame.

As I grab my bag and keys,

Shove my feet into my shoes,

I hurry out the door

Still curt, a little rude.

I remind myself again

That though I’m saved by grace

I am far from perfect

A fact that I must face.
I am a work in progress

As I struggle to succeed

I want to be a godly woman

Clothed in strength and dignity.

So I offer my apologies

To all of you who see

Sometimes I simply relate too well
To my pet, Itch: one very sassy bee.