Someone gave me a prompt today, to write a poem about pyjamas. So I’ve quickly composed the one below. I’m not sure what door this prompt has opened in my mind but it’s an interesting one. Take a look at it. I love pyjamas by the way. And soft, sensual beds. It’s difficult to get into that ready-for-bed mind though. When there’s so much to do and so many rules to keep to.
Your Pyjamas I like your pyjamas your fleecy cotton pyjamas gathered by chance and brushed aside enough for skin to come between us and be touched by my soft scrutiny enough to make you blush. do you know what it’s like to be chained to what’s not said between us? to be forgotten? the moon's been rinsed enough and the night requires attention but I must empty the lamp of light in case I say something I shouldn't.