Better Than Any Lovers Flower Bouquet Poem by Mark Heathcote

How I love it more when winter draws in
when the chill in the air freezes still
resting on my pillow a tired journeymen
nodding off to sleep like a tried daffodil.

I like it when I'm tired and fatigued.
Close by my side, when I'm all alone
yes, its warmth is a lovely bittersweet;
least it doesn't snore like a megaphone.

I like to squeeze it between my knees.
Cuddle up to its pink velour fur
fill it to the neck with warming leas;
screw-in tight its corking-aperture.

Had one as a child, it made me feel safe.
It was special then, still is today.
My hot water bottle I lovingly embrace.
Better than any lovers flower bouquet.