Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Bedtime Hush to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
When the day sails in with its tired sails and its cargo of aches and cares,
The blanket is the harbour where the weary ship repairs.
Its seams are quiet quays, and its folds are gentle bays,
Where the wind of worry loses breath and the storm-tossed heart just stays.
The pillow is the lighthouse and the sheet, a sea of calm,
And the night wraps up my shoulders like a soft, protective psalm.
I anchor down my toes and let my thoughts come in to shore,
The tasks I did not finish will be waiting there no more.
The waves of breath grow longer, and the tide of dusk goes still,
And I rock upon the hush of night as a boat rocks at its will.
So drop your anchor, weary soul, and rest in safe repair,
For a blanket is a harbour when we sail in from despair.
Poet of Bedtime Hush · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
In this poem the bed becomes a harbour and the day becomes a ship coming in from a hard voyage. Every part of the bedroom takes a place in the picture.
The day “sails in with its tired sails and its cargo of aches and cares,” and “the blanket is the harbour where the weary ship repairs.” Seams are “quiet quays,” folds are “gentle bays,” and the pillow is “the lighthouse.”
The speaker lets thoughts “come in to shore” and leaves unfinished tasks waiting. As “the waves of breath grow longer,” the speaker rocks “upon the hush of night.” The last couplet tells the reader to “drop your anchor, weary soul.”