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Hot Winter
Wine.
Miles and miles of synchronised smiles,
I watch you at work with a spoon,
Is it Bouillabaisse, or am I misplaced,
Or is it the effects of the moon?
I watch as you light the bubbles,
Then a blue flame dances on top,
Of the mulled wine mixed with orange,
As the bubbles explode in a pop.
Sipping the wine we do it in time,
I look over the rim of my cup,
We speak in familiar voices,
And then we’re ready to sup.
The food is divine, as is the wine,
And the conversation is cool,
Open rapport as we peek out the door,
Harmony is the golden rule.
She’s slim and intense, with good common sense,
And her beauty floats in the air,
The kudos of a home-cooked meal,
A feeling that says do you dare
As fast as it started it’s finished,
I float home on a wing and a prayer,
A feeling of pure contentment,
Even though I am home, I’m still there.
