He dreams of a bed of soft feathers and down
The ultimate comfort there is to be found.
Want burgers and fries when I come home from town?
Shall we get the nice beagle we saw at the pound?
You're a vision, Sweetheart, in your pretty prom gown.
This place is all backwards, it's all turned around.
Sleeping is fitful, disturbed and unsound,
For the blanket less form on the cold hard ground.
Connie Yost's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Blanket Less by Connie Yost )
- Endless game, hasmukh amathalal
- Seasonings of Sense, Mae AC.
- War And Not To Love, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- ISRO's MOM in Mars - Congrats to Indian .., Dr John Celes
- Free on the Breeze, Thomas Plotz
- Gather strength, hasmukh amathalal
- INDIA! INDIA!, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
- Morning, Sara Hopkins
- My India (Hindi) भारत अपना, S.D. TIWARI
- from 'The Double' VIII, Morgan Michaels
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)