Friday, November 10, 2017
Ode to flannel pajamas
Ode to Flannel Pajamas
For as long as I can remember,
they comforted me,
kept me safe, more than toasty warm at night,
reminding me it was fall -
always ready for an early bedtime.
As birthdays passed, I outgrew them quickly.
Mine had cuffs, pockets,
and presented themselves in all colors plaid.
Made from hand picked cotton
grown under a scorching sun,
washed hundreds of times,
flannel summer sheets also kept my body cool.
Napped on one side,the soft fabric,
associated with good horse-sense,
and bologna sandwiches for lunch,
Snuggling in them with a teddy bear,
I dreamed of sailing boats, pussycats,
and stars in relation to Mars.
When wearing them,
it seemed all was right
in the wide, wide world,
as if it were made of sweet buttery
All that, and I still wondered
about kids who wore nothing to bed
but skivies, walked all day on bare feet,
gunfire and bombs overhead
all through the night,
little food to eat.
I must have led a protected life,
growing up in middle America...
but I think I always knew
it was a perilous world,
not to be taken for granted;
I learned early each Christmas was precious -
and not just because
there was, under the tree,
another set of flannel pajamas,
or a long red plaid flannel nightie!