Welcome to My Poetry Site
There's an indent in a pillow that I carefully put away,
I keep it as a token, a shrine to yesterday,
There's a strand of hair I cherish, not much, but all I have,
I keep it in the forlorn hope you might be coming back.
There's a subtle hint of Lopez or might it be White Pearl?
There was a time, a lovin' time, when you scented all my shirts,
I keep this special pillow, as a memory to the past,
If I hold my breath and listen, I can sometimes hear you laugh.
I count the small hours one by one, too tired to fall asleep,
It's when I get the pillow out and lay it next to me,
The indent starts to ripple, getting deeper as you turn,
Just my imagination, but on lonely nights it works.
© Joseph G Dawson