Sunday, November 28, 2010

Someone to hold

I dropped onto my empty bed,
It's so empty, that traitorous bed!
"Choose!" I demanded haughtily,
"between the jealous air and me!"
By God! that lecherous bed said naught,
Why would he? He's always warmed,
By my willing body in his arms.
If not, the naked air is in his folds,
So he always has someone to hold.

Musings of a died soul #7

The placelessness of paceless time,
Is but a graceless wish,
You see the more you crave unstructured time,
The more structured it is.