"Wake within the Rose Wilderness,"
with the sky of pinks as this day closes.
"I beseech the sun to undress the stars,"
as the moon comes over the crest.
"If I am your refrain, let my name burn,"
in the morning light as the sun climbs out of bed.
"Tortured by the taste of Touch,"
today will the hot sun burn me once more?
"What is a ripple without its rhythm?"
Like the daily sun without the nightly moon.
I lay resting in a bed of dreams,
as time slipped away.
Heavy with the world's grief,
weakness awaits me—
laziness settles in my skin,
while all around, the spirit falls still.
About this poem
A bed of golden flowers spreads across blades of grass
It's like a blanket of sunshine on the ground
A resting place waits without a sound
Soft, comforting, unlike the broken glass
Pieces of glass, those sharp memories left behind
As views of blurred miles are passed
The wheels of change turn, oh so fast
Old thoughts, new thoughts, pass through my mind
A bed of golden flowers remains fresh and new
Thriving safely, freely, on the way
Highlights such a beautiful, clear day
Offering peace with a bright, stunning, view
There is no return to what was lost
Only today, as precious time moves forward
Although there's proof of being no coward
Knowing the bed of flowers will fade with the frost
Heidi Sands
8/30/26
(C)opyright
For each bruise he gave,
Let flowers grow in heaven,
For her to rest on.
Ever-optimistic
for fun and games
one may dream
of peaches and cream
and tho' the primrose path
may razz our berries
life ain't always a bed of roses
or just a bowl of cherries
for the latter comes with stones
as has the former prickles
we must pick and choose
which way our fancy tickles
hook book
bed read
no voice
so nice
head read
bead did
The day you begin to feel the cold,
Is the day you are starting to get old.
I couldn't bear anything on my feet,
But now I wear socks in bed and cover them with a sheet.
I always went naked to bed,
But now I wear pajamas instead.
Written: June 21, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Line Gauthier
**************
Oblivion devoured our love, ignited in holy fire,
In muted sighs, my sunken dreams expire.
I pulled the linen sheets, but no answer came,
My empty bed burns with the sting of searing shame.
A cloak of apparent grace for this broken soul,
I stitch a hollow hope to revamp myself whole.
Worst verse
The Circular Tyrant Above My Bed
The circular tyrant above my bed,
Ticks from dawn till I wish I was dead.
The clock laughs like a joker on the wall,
I can’t get rid of this clumsy fellow at all.
Hammer of time, smashing my dreams flat,
Pressure cooker tick-tock, imagine that!
Effervescent minutes, transcendental shock,
Turn my pizza dreams to wall clock block.
Chili sauce thoughts drip down the wall,
Why did some genius invent this thing at all?
It runs like a marathon, no rest, no pause,
My sleep is murdered, give applause, applause!
Rumple Stein locked the
bedroom door and grinned,
his eyes reflecting the pale
moonlight outside.
"Beneath your very
mattresses lies the Shadow
Snatcher," he whispered,
pointing a crooked finger
downward.
"This skinny, faceless
monster stays awake forever,
hating the peaceful dreams
of sleeping girls and boys."
The children pulled their
blankets up to their noses,
freezing as the bedframes
creaked softly.
"He creeps out into the dark
because he desperately
wants to fall asleep like you."
A cold breeze swept through
the room, through all the
windows were tightly shut.
"Since he cannot rest, he
reaches up to steal your soul,
hoping its warmth brings him
sleep."
The youngest child
whimpered, realizing their
feet were hanging off the
edge of the mattress.
"If you close your eyes
tonight, he will snatch your
spirit right out of your chest."
Rumple Stein blew out the
lamp, laughing into the pitch
black, "Better stay awake forever!"
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord the world to keep
afloat for yet another day
~ protect my family anyway
The silver moon begins to
softly gleam,
To guide you safely to a
gentle dream.
The stars are tucking in the
quiet skies,
As heavy tired eyes close your
sleepy eyes.
Goodnight, sweet dreams,
until the morning sun.
I find hope because I am not dead,
I find hope as the sun gets out of bed.
The bright and pretty light will spread,
for all to see and be read.
With hope I will always look ahead,
hope can be a common thread.
Crows were croaking in the sky
Rain was going to pour
And the wind was blowing high
Through the bedroom door
So what now? I asked the wind
Nothing, he replied
Nothing what? I faintly grinned
And the clouds cried
Thunder shook my window pane
I turned up my head
Splashes of torrential rain
Flew onto my bed
I kept lying on my back
Watching the skylight
As it changed from grey to black
With the hints of white..
My husband and I
now own an adjustable bed.
It lifts about 90 degrees at the head
and 40 degrees at the foot.
An incredible invention except that
my husband likes it low, and I do not.
Our compromise isn’t to my liking!
Our mattress is California King -
72 inches wide and 84 inches long.
It provides roomy comfort for us and our pets,
yet without fail, my spouse
ends up sleeping on my side of the bed
facing me in the fetal position.
Opposites always, I sleep on my right side
and he sleeps on his left.
The cat, when it is there at all,
sleeps often at my feet.
Unequal is our bed’s positional balance
as I lie sometimes precariously on the edge
wishing for a separate bed – a queen size fit for me.
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