a poem for a winter’s night (part one)

. . . . . . .night-time.  outside the frosted window,  the sight of snow falling silently, gently, onto the frozen,  snow-covered ground below.  inside, warm and cozy. there we are,  wrapped inside a mix of blankets, face to face with  the cobblestone fireplace.  the logged wall of the wooded cabin, all darkened,  all for the exception of the flickering light,  orange and yellow.  a soft glow.  a soft crackle,  a loud pop of embers.  winter night, hold you tight,  i need you.  caring, sensitive, affectionate, passionate.  lights off,  fire glow, afterglow.  the beating of one’s heart, when the other looks into the others eyes,  desire grows.  i need you tonight.  gorgeous, classy, alluring and captivating.   silence speaks  a lot,  and we are listening to a novel.   a glass of white,  you are mine,  i am yours –  i am yours.  craving,  pining, yearning.  wanting to know more,  of you,  about you.  each day passing,  learning more and more.  to become closer,  the feelings slowly creep in.   the music stops, catch it on the flip side.  throwing another log into the fire.  filling another glass, running  back to wrap each other tighter, closer.  snuggle, holding ones hand, the comfort of the other.  turned on to the same words,  the conversation rises,  and the hours slip by.  laughing,  knowing and  the learning of each other,  glimpses of paradise.   there we are.   and here,  on the blanket  littered floor,  the  pillow  talk  fades  into silence, we slowly doze off.  the fire slowly burns  itself  into a  glowing  pile of ash,  and one wakes up to turn on the heat.  returning to the slumber, my arm reaches out,  holding you gently.  //  as morning breaks,  the sunrise shines  through  where  the  curtains came together, breaking my sleep.  as i rise, i wipe my eyes and slowly walk to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.  i turn and swipe the curtain to the side, and  look at the world, that is my day.  and once i look,  i rub my eyes once more,  because the sight that is seen,  i must be dreaming.  i turn and walk  to the door,  and proceed to open it.  you awake from your sleep.  good morning, morning-glory.  seeing that i am hurrying to the door,  you ask,  ” what is wrong?”.  before i could even reply, my hand quickly opens the door, and immediately,  our mouths dropped the ground.  and there,  to the amazement to our eyes,  stood about five feet of snow,  packed in,  all around the cabin.  the laughing starts as i shut the door quickly.  there we are, snowed in.  food, wood,  drink, enough to last.  so we carry on and shower.  removing  the blanket  littered floor,  and packing  them in the chest that sits in the hallway,  i cook up some breakfast, as you retreat to the bedroom,  jumping up on top the soft pillow-top king.  i tray up the food and serve  you a breakfast in bed.  and there,  we share our snowed in day, with no plans, and no work.  a whole day awaits,  all for us . . . . . . . . . .  c.2013 BGW

About bradford graham west

enjoy poetry about life, emotion and everything in between. it's real and true. - please read and enjoy! - bgw
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