Poem for her 490

Dear Readers,


Those fridays


When the rain just won't stop
And the picnic is inside
The day is light colored grey
The sky no stars shine that night
The weather has us both down
The cozy sire keeps us dry
The cozy covers keep us warm
The smell of bacon fresh
The small bags of mint warm
The cup filled with hot tea
The cards shuffled and ready
The kisses long and soft
The cards never much get moved
The sheets turned back
The pillows fluffed
The day wears on outside cloudy
Inside the air filled with
You and me
Kissing
Kissing
Kissing

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.