Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Dressing Gown

One of two poems I dedicate to things I can't pass a day without thinking about, everyday objects that go unappreciated by everyone. Today is the day of - you guessed it - the dressing gown.

Dressing gown

I wake up every morning,

From my bed of alone.

Those clean sheets, who

Never sleep, never hug

At all-


The floor is always cold

One foot tells the other,

But that doesn’t stop

The trudging that much-

Even in the summer.


Once your arms entwine

In mine, and your front

Lies over my middle.

I feel your cord-

Always My warmth

That makes us inseparable.

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