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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The Daily Travesty 