I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

13 August 2014

On Cold Nights

Although I have no husband now,
there are those that warm my bed.

One caresses my feet. My toes curl 
and stretch in ecstatic response. 

Another has my back. I snuggle in,
feeing comforted, safe.

A third is hot in my embrace
for hours, night after night.

There's a lad who sneaks in late. I wake to see
his black-haired, handsome head lying beside mine.

My favourite, though, is grey-haired like me,
female like me. When I stroke her shapely flank,

she purrs. So does the black cat by my pillow ...
while the hot water bottles nestle quietly.

6 comments:

  1. Lovely writing about comforting each other.

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  2. The mood, the feeling, as always beautifully expressed Rosemary.

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  3. Mmm. Both memories and pets are warming and at times stirring. I too rarely sleep alone. Well said!

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  4. Thanks, friends! I have now changed last line, in the hope of making the identity of the first three clearer. :)

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  5. Nice that you're in good, warm company in bed. I knew you were referring to cats, since you said you have no husband and I didn't think you were the groupy kind. Enjoyed reading this.

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