surrounded by clouds

On an ode to my bed.

My beloved, you are beautiful.

The sight of you fills me with such joy.

Clean and smooth and cool. Bespeckled with a spray of tiny flowers, like a carpet of spring blossoms welcoming me home.

The cover pulled back, I am invited in, and I sink back with a sigh.

This is no canvas shelter. This is no nylon cocoon. This is no moonlit, starlit square of mud and grass, so hard and cold and unforgiving.

No, this is a bed. Warm and soft and safe. And not just any bed. This is my bed.

Welcome home.

Forum was such fun, but boy howdy am I glad to be back in my own lovely bed, in my own lovely flat. Bliss.

In summary: poems of joy.

This entry was published on September 7, 2012 at 8:06 pm. It’s filed under Rest and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “On an ode to my bed.

  1. Amazing! This made me laugh outloud šŸ™‚

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