My Night Gown

My Night-Gown seemed,
To be...well-worn.
It was all so thin,
With edges torn.

And so...I took,
Where places hug.
And braided them,
Into a rug.

Now...it was blue,
And it had been warm.
And I snuggled it,
When came the storm.

The under-neath,
Had lace and fleece.
It had given me comfort,
And inner-peace.

It had served me well,
Like a honey-bug.
Before it went,
Into a rug.


E.P. 1908 - 1989