Note: Faithful readers just knew that there had to be a poem on the way.
* * *
My skin is chilled as now upon
The sainted sheets I lie.
The harshness of their emptiness
Their texture will deny.
Not long ago – but just one night -
I lay on well-worn sheets.
The warmth and tenderness I knew
Was luxury to me.
‘Twas not the thread nor silk worm’s work
That comforted my soul.
‘Twas one who shared the bed with me
Whose touch did make me whole.
But he has his and I have mine;
Chaste sheets now beds adorn.
I’ll treasure long within my soul
That night with sheets well-worn.
- ©2008, “Lemuel”
* * *
That’s a wrap.
Sending HUGS to all!
