Dancing With My Pillows
What kind of dance may it be,
The one that only brings agony.
A twist, a turn, a one, two, three.
The pillow that looms close to my head,
The one that tells me he is dead.
A twist, a turn, a one, two, three.
The pillow that lifts my knees high,
The one that gives no warmth to my thigh.
A twist, a turn, a one, two, three.
The pillow that embraces my neck,
The one that says my life is a wreck.
A twist, a turn, a one, two, three.
The pillow that lays close to my side,
The one that pretends to be Clyde.
A twist, a turn, a one, two, three.
Dancing with my pillows,
In a waltz of sorrow,
Now and forever will feel hollow.
Paula it is so hard living with out them…love you.
ReplyDeleteIt is difficult to repurpose once the love of one’s life has left the planet. Thank God for the beautiful memories!
Delete