My Bed

Wood grown from trees watered daily,
Cut down in a humanly, selfish manner.
Money flying around for the work being done,
Money, made from trees just as well.
 
Painted white frame,
One board at each end,
A second mattress lies beneath mine,
Purchased for whomever might stay for the night.
 
Five plump pillows decorate the head,
And an aqua blanket at the foot;
Nine different colors of daisies arranged in a hexagonal pattern cover the quilt.
 
Eight hours each weeknight I sleep.
Twelve hours each weekend night I sleep.
 
’Tis not to be taken for granted,
That I get to rest atop my bed whenever I please.
 
My bed supports me at night,
It allows me to dream of whatever I wish.
 
To me, it is more than just a man-made structure,
It gives me comfort, support, and time to recover.