Face Folded in Repose

Cold toes and cold nose and cold shoulder and just
A light quiltful of down from a goose
No blankets they perished in mouldering dust
No tucking in tight it's all loose
Imagine a hearth at the foot of the bed
The comfort of glowing hot coals
That would have sent heat past your knees to your head
First toasting your heels and your soles
Once toes are all cosy the rest follows on
It's critical starting from there
So now that the fires and the blankets are gone
You must not have feet that are bare
The best socks are soft but not clingy or tight
With no PJ bottoms tucked in
They have to be free to drift off in the night
At the point where a sweat might begin
Oh Bedsocks I love you my whole life improved
Deep sleeping whole night-times away
The world sees the proof of how little I moved
Face folded up freshly each day