I sit on my bed, and look across at my sage green towelling robe, <br />hanging on the back of the bedroom door. <br /> <br />Does he still 'fancy' me, <br />when I'm wearing it, <br />probably not, <br />it's not 'sexy', rather 'frumpy' really, <br />not at all an 'exciting' piece of clothing. <br /> <br />A dowdy bird, <br />dowdy and unheard! <br />I think that's me! <br /> <br />A 'new' me, must emerge from that robe. <br />A butterfly from a chrysalis, <br />A rose from a bud. <br /> <br />I think I need an overhaul, and a new 'robe', <br />like you see the 'famous' wearing, <br />in their 'penthouses'. <br />A glorious creation of satin and silk, <br />like flowing cream and milk. <br /> <br />Mind you, my towelling robe, hangs next to his towelling robe, <br />so perhaps we will do the same, and remain side by side, <br />and perhaps he loves me for other things than just being, <br />glamorous. <br /> <br />Hanging there, they look at peace with each other, <br />so I think I'll stick with my sage green towelling robe, <br />it cuddles me, just like he does! <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-sage-green-robe/
