It is bedtime 'my half' and the vow still fresh
You promised to make me a bed
Of love and trust not metals and timber
Wide enough for two, in sorrow and bliss
Ave waited and waited and my heart is sleepy
My legs are wobbly and my eyelids are creased
Our honeymoon is rusty and the lullaby is gone
This wordy paper with dotted lines, makes my eyes to blink
This pen we used...still writes in ink
The circle on my digit still fits I think
We've lived with the vows...till death do us part
Make me a bed, as promised
For my memory is failing
Sounds as if the honeymoon is over.Perhaps it will yet work out. A great title, Both enjoyable and troubling.Well handled
''make me a bed of love''-nice imagery, Simon, I like the idea to make the love be existent, moreover, to make it sleepy...maybe you should make the love be a bed for sleeping...but it's not a rule....nice poem, thank you for sharing..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A real marriage life! Love becomes an illusion, the more we get used to each other (wuod mama) . This is a nice post. I like it.