Bed Times at Home

This morning as I finished my occasional breakfast in bed I looked around at my assorted books, paper pads, etc. and came across a short poem our writing teacher gave us to prompt poetical nudges. It reads:

Keep a poem in your pocket

And a picture in your head

And you'll never feel lonely

At night when you're in bed.

The little poem will sing to you

The little picture bring to you

A dozen dreams to dance to you

At night when you're in bed.

So..

Keep a picture in your pocket

And a poem in your head

And you'll never feel lonely

At night when you're in bed.

Well, it did the trick. I don't consider myself a poet but I thought I'd give it a try. Wasn't going to go public with it, but my daughter said, "Mom, That should go in your blog." Before I chicken out I'll put it here. 

Big Bed’s Lonely Boons

Why did I buy a big bed

when I knew I’d be sleeping alone?

I must have known 

it would accommodate books, 

the remote for TV and my telephone.

Tablets and pens would find room too,

and there in her blanket near my feet, 

 a little Chihuahua might choose to sleep.

I confess I bought the bed for its look.

Arched white headboard and footboard so high,

a broad breasted mattress

to carry me up in the sky,

as magical carpets are said to do,

to far away places 

adventure lands new.

To dreamlands

and wide awake scheme lands I soar

 in effortless lazy delight 

and more.

Then home again, 

I look ‘round to see

mementos of years that used to be.

Now? (a perk for the "elderly,") there’s no hurry,

no stress, no need to scurry.

No need to get up, no clock to race. 

No warm embrace either, but then,

snuggling down on soft pillows a-while,

what’s that I feel on my face? 

 A sleepy contented widow’s smile.