A Bouquet Of Wallflowers

My bedroom, how graceful

The comfort it brings me.

The light through the window

Shines down from above,

And in shadows dancing

On white walls beside me

I find solace in the silence,

Alone with my love.

I remember old friendships,

The names so long forgotten,

Imagine the knowing glances

From one yonder dove,

Then flick on my TV

And lean back among the shadows,

In comfort with my companion,

My bedroom, my love.

Now not ten feet beyond it

A house, warm and welcome, beckons.

It bids me to come explore it,

Partake of its food,

And deep in my spirit

The call echoes deep within me,

But I’d have to do some laundry

And I’m not in the mood,

So I recline ever gently

My blanket’s my body’s glove,

And spend more exotic moments

In the bedroom I love.

At 8:00 my phone’s alarm clock

Plays “Ih, What a Wonderful World.”

I listen intently

To Louis Armstrong’s voice.

I see skies of blue,

White clouds, dark and sacred nights,

And see also comfy pillows

And soon make my choice.

And though I’m unemployed now

And probably approaching my doom

These words they will write on my tomb:

“His bedroom he loved.”

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