Comfort Within Walls

To be honest, I could’ve titled this poem ‘Comfort In Bed’ or ‘Comfort Within The Sheets’ or some other sleep-related phrase, but I decided to look a little further than that. The poem isn’t just about sleep. It’s not even just about the comfort of a bed and the security that blankets and sheets bring. Instead, it is a poem about how the inside world is safe and the outside world is scary and threatening, even if it is in a small way. I think my studies of Tennessee William’s ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ made this idea clear to me, as we always seem to find some sense of safety when we are within walls and separated from the outside danger, whether that is other people, animals, insects, storms, or something else entirely. In any case, please enjoy this poem!

Comfort Within Walls

Here I am the most comfortable,
lying between the sheets of soft and silk,
that, in truth, are only coloured cotton—
alas, bother not my mind with that.

Outside, the world does quietly stir and wake,
with creatures crawling from field to lake,
but none, I know, do it for my own sake,
they are such fickle creatures, don’t you know?

There is none but the inside in my mind,
where fires roar and cats purr all night;
under the sheets I am safe from it all,
comfort protects me from comfort, somehow.