Pillows



Pillows are a gift of God,

of that I am assured;

they comfort when we are ill-

until and after we are cured.

 

Pillows are our friends indeed,

and nightly caress our heads;

they embrace us 'til the morning light

drives out our dreams and dreads.

 

Pillows, at times, are vicarious foes

when we upon them vent;

without complaint they take our blows,

until taxied-strength is spent.

 

Pillows beckon from couches, chairs, and beds,

"Leave your boredom, work, and play;

cast all your cares upon us;

we shall take them all away."

 

No, I shall never take pillows for granted,

for in my final rest,

one will surely be lodged behind my head,

as I join the sleep of the blest.

 

D.M.W. October 26, 2012