One pod at a time

Three peas in a pod laid resting,
while the morning sun laid cresting,
the pod opened a creak,
from the peas no a peep,
as the first pea tumbled through.

In their slumber, more space felt welcome,
though keeping still neither did seldom,
and so with a bump,
an impromptu jump,
and the second pea tumbled through.

The third pea had all space it'd desire,
fading off in the dream court's choir,
but without a support,
the pod would contort,
so the third pea, tumbled through.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.