My Pa he eats his breakfast <br /> in a funny sort of way: <br />We hardly ever see him <br /> at the first meal of the day. <br />Ma puts his food before him <br /> and he settles in his place <br />An' then he props the paper up <br /> and we can't see his face; <br />We hear him blow his coffee <br /> and we hear him chew his toast, <br />But it's for the morning paper <br /> that he seems to care the most. <br /> <br />Ma says that little children <br /> mighty grateful ought to be <br />To the folks that fixed the evening <br /> as the proper time for tea. <br />She says if meals were only served <br /> to people once a day, <br />An' that was in the morning <br /> just before Pa goes away, <br />We'd never know how father looked <br /> when he was in his place, <br />Coz he'd always have the morning paper <br /> stuck before his face. <br /> <br />He drinks his coffee steamin' hot, <br /> an' passes Ma his cup <br />To have it filled a second time, <br /> an' never once looks up. <br />He never has a word to say, <br /> but just sits there an' reads, <br />An' when she sees his hand stuck out <br /> Ma gives him what he needs. <br />She guesses what it is he wants, <br /> coz it's no use to ask: <br />Pa's got to read his paper <br /> an' sometimes that's quite a task. <br /> <br />One morning we had breakfast <br /> an' his features we could see, <br />But his face was long an' solemn <br /> an' he didn't speak to me, <br />An' we couldn't get him laughin' <br /> an' we couldn't make him smile, <br />An' he said the toast was soggy <br /> an' the coffee simply vile. <br />Then Ma said: 'What's the matter? <br /> Why are you so cross an' glum?' <br />An' Pa 'most took her head off <br /> coz the paper didn't come.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-breakfast-time/
