Poem for her 713

Dear Readers,



Slow winter breeze


The days are slow when the snows fall
The sleep in days
The oh we don't have to go
The slow snow falls close in
The porches cool but dry
The wood stocked high and dry
Cold out but warm in
The kitchen smells of wood smoke
The pine in the boughs
The candles scent nutmeg
The baking done yesterday
Or was it last weekend
The days so slow
The winter chilled
The furs up under your chin
The days slow
New jobs in town the books read
There on the hearth a soft glow
The days slow and winter still
Kiss your fingers and ask for a dance

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.