As the sun rises, i feel it's gentle beams touch my eyeslidsas i awake from the smell of lavendar and linens.i hear The Life of my world from the creak of my bedroom doorand so i haste down the stairs  i've found Her making french toast and baconas She humms to the voice of Sinatra on the radioand The Head is reading his daily paper as He waitsfor His meal ever so patientlynow The Sound of Thunder rushes down the stairs followed by Laughter one - two - threePrinces come to the table and seat Themselves, waiting for Their plates as does The Master of the Houseand i am joyous to bring it to Themnow it's my turn to sit at the table i notice The Men to my left,speaking amongst each other like The Brothers they areand to my right, The Givers of Lifewho speak of love as if they were still in Their Youthi witness The Life at the Tableknowing of the afternoon that will have been spent i am content