Thursday, 6 April 2017

30 poems in April


Time for bed said zebedee

Is life a bed of roses?
The passionate shepherd believed so
but with every rose there are thorns

A bed does not become a bed
until it is planted

When is a bed not a bed?
When it is a Futon

The chambermaid pondered whether making
the first bed or the last one in a day is the worst

A place where love and passion are explored

 Three bears asking the same question
that a wronged spouse may well pose

How many bedbugs share our bed each night?

A place of sweet dreams or vivid nightmares

where children fear that underneath
a monster lurks

where fears and problems magnify at 3 a.m.
where one can feel the most alone

or the most loved

You caused the problem, so you must solve it
as the saying goes

Is a shop doorway or a concrete floor a bed
if you sleep there?

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