The pillow cradled her gray locks, <br />she dreamed about a goose, <br />the night was cold and she wore socks <br />of pleasant baby blue. <br /> <br />When in the morning she awoke, <br />her dream was still so vivid, <br />she realised this was no joke, <br />sat up, became quite livid. <br /> <br />They'd tied (inside her dream) a noose <br />around the lovely neck <br />of that benign Canadian goose, <br />out on the Boathouse deck. <br /> <br />As through the window peeked the willow <br />she quickly donned her shoes, <br />picked up and hugged her fluffy pillow.. <br />it was her Mother Goose.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-goose-2/
