traumas (Remove filter)
A Handle For My Pillow
I loved that soft pillow's
Safe cradle for my head
Nothing could hurt me
Protected from dread
After my parents died
Auntie took on my care
Left behind my pillow
More than I could bear
Never forgot that pillow
Not ever to be replaced
One of the traumas my
Troubled life has faced
Each of my later pillows
Joined a joyless queue
Until I shared y...
Friday 13th November 2020 10:11 am
Recent Comments
John Coopey on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
5 minutes ago
Mike Bartram on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
25 minutes ago
Naomi on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
58 minutes ago
Naomi on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on Liberation, 1945
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
1 hour ago
Hélène on Beatrix is on Holiday
3 hours ago
Hélène on Another poet in the family
3 hours ago
Hélène on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
3 hours ago
John Coopey on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
3 hours ago