Feather-beds
© By Grady L. Duncan 
9/24/01
When I was but a child,
it never enter my head,
that there would come a day,
we wouldn't have feather-beds.
They were our salvation,
on those cold wintry nights.
We'd run and jump in it,
and sink plumb out of sight.
Three or four quilts for cover,
goose down pillows for our heads,
sleep come soon and sound.
You'd thought that we were dead.
It was soft and cozy,
like floating on a cloud.
It wrapped all around us,
and enfolded us like a shroud.
Thanks to the reluctant goose,
from which we got the down.
The softness of their feathers,
was the best to be found.
They always honked and hissed,
and pinched us with their bills.
They knew when Winter comes,
They'd surely get a chill.
With this thought in mind,
it's really rather simple,
to understand the coinage,
of the words, "Goose Pimples."
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MIDI - "Brahm's Lullaby"
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