sitting with
eyes closed
and
faintest trace
of
smile

one leg tucked
beneath her

she cozy's up
to
the hearth
in her
comfy chair

with a
favored afghan
gently draping
shoulders

logs ablaze
with
crackling embers
on a cold
new england
night

only
dancing flames
illuminate
the room

fine crystal
goblet
held
in more
delicate hand
with
finger
softly
slowly circling
its rim

she listens
dreamily
as he
reads
to her
his heart

it is neither
flames
nor blanket
that
warm her
soft form
this night

with pleasure...

it is verse
that
sets
her dreams
afire
and
dares her

ask for
more