Then I made a mistake. I started reading this and then I couldn't sleep, it was all a bit too real. Now I am out of bed and ready to plan lessons. But first I must write my own (poem, not lesson, although maybe they could be the same thing?) else I will be distracted all day.
I think I may have judged the Amber Spyglass too early, it's already very good and mysterious, please erase all my negative comments from your minds.
Update 10:49
Hohoho, it is complete, and I like it. It's a bit filthy though. You, please don't read too much into it, I am feeling a bit dramatic today.
The Perfect Bed
It used to be the case
That in the instant before I landed
The delicate closing of my eyes
Would open my mind up
Wide like a gracious host to sleepy dreams.
The perfect bed
In the corner by the window
Made it oh so easy.
Lumbering and confidently Victorian
In its dominance of the room.
Slipping in and under the ideal weight
Originally wrapped in tessellations of footballs
But now alternating mocha and beige
Just like us.
In the mornings I struggle to shed this second skin.
I wonder if the perfect bed
Would change in your presence?
My certainty is that it would sincerely succeed in
Warming you and cooling me
Until we were mathematically satisfied.
So I toss and turn and flip the pillow over
Hoping the fresh side will distract me
From lucid dreams of tongue tracing
Maple syrup ABCs along your spine.
Even though food isn’t allowed in the perfect bed.
The varnish fails to hide the mottles in the wood
Swirls that he used to graze with hot fingertips
Melting me.
Now it’s you that keeps me awake
Pondering whether your dearth is its first flaw.
