Awakening Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It was so very black,
and curly, rather cute,
I wondered what
if anything remarkable
worth noting it could be.

I had, in a small fit of splurging,
acquired pillow covers,
and sheets of snow white,
somewhat semi-gloss
and devinely textured
damast-o-silk-o-satin.

' The only way to fly',
the salesclerk had insisted,
something akin to flying
had been the order of
the night and every night
since she moved in.

So, there it lay, as snug
and happy as a lover
who had just woken
from a dream of cotton candy.

And having duly noted
and understood its right
to rest its sleepy curls
upon my pillow, by my side,
I briefly wondered if she would
prefer Gilette or Wilkinson.