Friday, April 15, 2011

Bed - by Rand

She said the old one
was getting lumpy
and hard to sleep with

He argued that it was
predictably comfortable

They both thought
they were talking
about their bed


  1. Bed

    Unmade - does it speak?

    To some it whispers,

    To others it screams,

    To me it silently beckons.
    I crawl in,
    pull the covers over,
    and escape.

  2. It is above all else
    My sanctuary.
    It holds me softly,
    Secure from the world.
    And to avoid misconception
    When I find that One,
    I shall gift them with this poem
    So that it might be understood
    Why I nicknamed them so odd a name
    As that unlikely word "Bed."