Lesten WhitePigeon


I lay still under the warmest blankets in the house
Cradled in my bed enjoying the warmth,
I have prepared for myself
I hear the bathroom faucet drip
The furnace kick on at the end of the hall
Sounds silent during the day,
Till the sun tips and falls
I surrender to the offering of rest
An lay with no rush for it to come
I try to ignore what tomorrow will bring and what must be done
I close my eyes and pray for a dream that will fulfill my soul
One that shows promise and everyday in life as we grow
Quietly I fall, silently I lift
In the blink of an eye it happens
I fall sleep, away I drift

Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 22, 2009
Poem Edited: Sunday, February 22, 2009

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