It’s not just a blanket
Of yarn and red silk
That her father
Bought for her to hold.
It covered her spirit.
It warmed her soul.
It protected her
From the monster’s shadows
That scaled
Her bedroom walls.
Although her father’s gone,
A piece of the blanket
Still remains.
The only thing left over
From the time
She was a fearful little girl.
©️mark tulin
beautiful…….
touching^^
thanks 🙏🏻
Oh thank you…this is truly lovely…
Thank you. 😊