(to Joyce Kilmer's Trees)
Methinks my head shall never find
This pillow lovely and divine
A pillow soft with precious fluff
A place to lie when world’s enough
A home for noggin counting sheep
And sends me off to comfort sleep
A kind and thoughtful respite place
That soaks the stains of oily face
Encased in flannel fabric dear
It molds itself around my ear
The place to spread my gentle locks
So glad you’re not a wooden box.
(with thanks to Morgan for spurring the thought)
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