Poem for her 502

Dear Readers,


Burr it's cold outside

You said burr when you looked up at our window
The chill outside offset by the room's warmth
Your skin hot with that warmth inside as you sleep
That heat that makes the sheets go scattered
The skin soft under my fingers but warm too
The kiss put in our scrapbook stamped imprint
The other page the shadow of your lips on me
The pages with slow soft writing saying
Long private thoughts in pillows of light ink
Burr it's cold outside the winter chill still
The spring days seem only barely here slipping in
The sound of you breathing so close to my ear
The joy of you always soul of my soul
Kiss the nape of your neck fresh coffee on my lips
Warm toast and our favorite breakfast dish
Curled up with you in my arms cuddled
All night long till the first stretch of morning
The lips you touch tell you

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.