A BLANKET OF LOVE

How is it your eyes 
Has shined upon me
A peasant of a man
That bed in the streets 

My wardrobe of rags 
Tells an ancient tale 
I'm un groomed as you can see
With eagles claws 
And dirt filled hair

But you thou velvet drape
Are soft to the touch 
And warm to embrace 

Your origin is of the Kings Palace
But just like me 
You have been displaced 

And that which has been cast out
On the rubbish heap 
Are as a blessing from above 
For tonight, this peasant of a man
Will experience his best of sleep.

Wilford Barker.