Our bed is like an old sail boat,
Sailing on stormy seas;
Buffeted by the wild winds,
Tossed by the bossy breeze;
Sheets like silken ripples,
Nestle me to sleep;
Downy pillows hush my breath,
If I am wont to weep.
Often like two spoons,
Warm within the night;
Close our eyes and take off,
Dream flight.
As we sail on blithely,
Our backs facing the stern;
We look ahead, and wait,
For the fickle tide to turn.
©
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