At the break of dawn, I turn, mumble, wake and yawn; And turn to see You, in our blanket castle.
The dainty sunshine bathes your face; Of your matted hair, the breeze makes a menace. I play with shadows of you- And them I hold captive, in our blanket castle.
Now, the garden swallows twitter on the sill A familiar longing, in me they instill. The pillow feathers, the tickling toes, the warm giggles- I realize- are but memories of you- in our blanket castle.