Bed-Sharers

I am not wedded
But someone share my bed
Every night, reluctantly I lay
With power of the ray
Of the sun, passionate than a wife
Her touch tender than a life
All night, she keeps me down
Most times till dawn
She does not worry
If I am hungry or weary
Rather I must do her bidding
If I mustn’t suffer her lashing
She grasps my fingers with firm hold
Placing in it weightless load
And in my mind, she plays a muse
Where myth and rhythm run loose
The night a poem murdered
Sleep in a duel on my bed.

by ifedayo oshin

Comments (1)

Nice one, though it may need a rewrite (more about that later) Meanwhile, it is about time you stop fornicating with Poetry and the two of you get respectably married. Bravo!