The bed looks so tempting, so soft and beguiling,
It is calling me down to its feathery depths.
How can I resist such an alluring propostion
When I long to feel its warmth and softness?

I sink down into a billowy mass of white,
Savor the sensation of drifting on clouds.
Four sides of the bed reach down to enfold me,
And comfort me with tranquil serenity.

I lay and gaze at the shadowed ceiling,
Interlaced with a network of patterns;
Until I am wrapped in a hazy, filtered dream
As I drift sweetly to sleep in exhaustion extreme.

I can feel the warm breeze fanning my cheeks
Like soft and maternal fingers;
That caress and coddle a blessed child
With tenderness and love, completely beguiled.

The bed is a never ending haven of comfort,
A refuge from the busy, frenzied world;
A place where I can lay my tired head to rest,
And await the start of a new day refreshed.

V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry For Tea Drinkers

"Circumstance does not make the man: it reveals him to himself."
~James Allen

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