– Robert Bly –
There's no end to the joy of climbing into bed,
And hearing your wife rustling about nearby;
There's no end to the delight of the huge covers.
There's no end to the delight of hearing your body
Rumbling, and night waiting to capture you,
And take you off to your childhood bed.
There's no end to saying there's no end,
No end to rubbing your feet after a run,
No end to the delight when the door closes.
There's no end to thanking Jesus for his words,
To pulling up the covers of a century
And stretching out your toes into the dark,
And saying goodbye to the world once more.