Friend

I know a thingummy squat and wide
with hollow cardboard rolls inside,
Its hollow feet and hollow hands
let in the cold when up it stands,
so down it sits as like as not
to keep the draught from up its …

I’ve never asked it for its name
I think I might, then think again,
then think it might be rather shy
and think I might be wrong to pry
but then again a name is nice
I have a name, my name is…

I like to sit next to my friend
(the one with the hollow cardboard end)
I pause a while and contemplate
the kind of things we might debate
if only I could sit and stay
beside my quilted friend all day.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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