A Plea To My Pillow

                   Some nights after I retire
                   to my cold and empty bed,
                   I cannot seem to fall asleep
                   so I reminisce instead.
                   My thoughts get somewhat clouded
                   and my memory's just a fog.
                   So I console my long-time pillow.
                   It may sound rather odd.

                   I ask it 'bout the time gone past
                   and of the pretty one it knew.
                   The one who lay right by my side
                   whose love I thought was true.
                   It would remind me of the things she said.
                   How good they made me feel.
                   If only they were everlasting.
                   If only they were real.

                   As I float into the happy scenes
                   to the one I like the best,
                   It makes me feel so good again
                   that it puts my mind to rest.
                   Then I drift into a dream
                   that helps me through the night.
                   I live it till the break of dawn.
                   I'm awaken by the light.

                   I'm sorrowed to see the morning come.
                   It hurts in such a way.
                   The comfort was just a dream I had
                   which vanishes into day.
                   The pillow knows the dream I had
                   but cannot tell me then.
                   I just have to get through another day
                   till it's time to ask again.

                                               3/82