Woodstoves And Wonders.
When sleep's roused
in the wee hours
cause our fire
needs a tending,
I unwrap my
arms around you,
and shuffle
'cross cold floors.
But I pause to
gaze upon you,
in the soft rays
of the moonlight,
still beset by
quivers of wonder,
that you actually share
this bed I've made.
Toss some hickory
cross the orange coals,
as the sparks
they go to flying,
back to snuggle
close beside you,
as you wink, and
smooth our nest.
Are we not
woodstoves of wonder
looking to be
filled with love
nightly as the
passion burns on
till the dawn and
brings dreams fulfilled.
©-MFB