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Security Blanket (1 Viewer)

Annie. Marie

Senior Member


Your memory
warms me on the coldest of days
It slides around my thighs
to travel across my chest
An embracing trace it knows oh so well

I use it as my picnic blanket
allowing it to be the only thing
comfortable enough
to come between the grass and I

It covers me under the moon
protecting me from the monsters
that live under my bed
on the nights that I let them

It is holed.
It is musty.
It is tattered.
It is my absolute favorite.

But on the days that I am the sun
my closet does me the favor
of keeping it just far enough
Until the seasons change
Until that chill runs down my spine once more


 

ritudimrinautiyal

Senior Member


Your memory
warms me on the coldest of days
It slides around my thighs
to travel across my chest
An embracing trace it knows oh so well

I use it as my picnic blanket
allowing it to be the only thing
comfortable enough
to come between the grass and I

It covers me under the moon
protecting me from the monsters
that live under my bed
on the nights that I let them

It is holed.
It is musty.
It is tattered.
It is my absolute favorite.

But on the days that I am the sun
my closet does me the favor
of keeping it just far enough
Until the seasons change
Until that chill runs down my spine once more



Ah..... So touching. I didn't feel it like a poem. I felt it like real love felt in memories, secured, too much loved.

The rhythm in imagery is too appealing.
Nice poem Annie

Ritu
 

dannyboy

Friends of WF
thoroughly enjoyed the work

I did wonder if

my closet favours me
by keeping it just far enough

might hit the rhythm better?
 

2020Syd2020

Senior Member
Hello,

overall this is really strong, I’ve left a few suggestions below for you.

Cheers

Syd

Your memory
warms me on the coldest of days
It slides around my thighs
to travels across my chest
An embracing trace it knows oh so well

by removing it and to I think you can improve the flow.


I use it as my picnic blanket
allowing it to be the only thing
comfortable enough
to come between the grass and I.

Your memory


It covers me under the moon
protecting me from the monsters
that live under my bed
on the nights that I let them

again I think removing it and repeating your memory, would improve the flow


It is holed.
It is musty.
It is tattered.
It is my absolute favorite.

But on the days that I am the sun
my closet does me the favor
of keeping it just far enough
Until the seasons change
Until that chill runs down my spine once more

 


Your memory
warms me on the coldest of days
It slides around my thighs
to travel across my chest
An embracing trace it knows oh so well

I use it as my picnic blanket
allowing it to be the only thing
comfortable enough
to come between the grass and I

It covers me under the moon
protecting me from the monsters
that live under my bed
on the nights that I let them

It is holed.
It is musty.
It is tattered.
It is my absolute favorite.

But on the days that I am the sun
my closet does me the favor
of keeping it just far enough
Until the seasons change
Until that chill runs down my spine once more


This poem is quite comfy. Love the imagery. Lovely poem. Thank you for sharing.
 

Annie. Marie

Senior Member
I love how you always comment with constructive feedback. I highly appreciate it, and will implement those edits. Thank you.
 
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