I sit in my bed, upright.
The cool, white cloth covers
these little, shrivelled legs,
as I stare out of my big bedroom
window,
the large oak tree’s feeble branches
swaying
in the breeze.
The field’s wild green hair
stands on end, and
waves at me joyously,
like a flickering flame.
there are clouds in the sky,
they surrender to the sun, as
I sit in my bed, upright.

I sit in my bed, upright.
Dusted, pink walls enclose me;
the room, white and mundane.
My teddy bear stares up at me
faithfully,
as it did when I was a child, and
had a baby’s body.
Now these legs so useless,
lie limp under the linen,
so numb.
My hands are cracked,
stories of times past echo, as
I sit in my bed, upright.

I sit in my bed, upright.
An eager mind trapped
within a slowed machine,
the cogs jarring,
bolts and nuts and nails
rusting away…
Sweet children gallop about
(inexperience gives them laughter)
on the immortal field;
such a ground which saw my youth
and now my impending
sleep.
It comes soon,
but for the moment,
I sit in my bed, upright.

I sit in my bed,
upright I think.
The tick and tock
of my trusty old clock
remind me of earlier days;
His arms would hold me,
And his smile would tell me,
“Good Morning”,
drinking orange juice
and tea.
You were gone that winter,
I shall never forget,
though most things leave me now...
except your gleaming face.
My arms dip me fast into the
warm and flat of my pillow –
almost as old as me.
Old, old friend.
The sun still shines through my
window, wide as it is.
I see your smile.
You’re here, with me,
for me.
You take my hand,
I throw off my duvet
and dance with you
in the candlelight,
sweet smell of roses catch my breath and hold -
I’m with you once more.

I laid down in my bed,
smiling.