One Day If I Could Spend The Night Poem by Red O'Mara

One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
I would stack your hearth with firewood,
and we could sit together, on your couch.
You, your feet tucked under you
and your head against my chest,
me, holding you close to me,
and breathing that faint and lovely
fragrance of your hair.
And we could dine on pizza and red wine,
in the softly glowing firelight,
one day, perhaps, if I could spend the night.

One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
there would be nothing hurried,
no urgency in either life,
and we could have another glass of wine
and talk, earnestly, of matters serious,
if we felt that way inclined.
Or, we could have that other glass of wine
and laugh at matters impolite,
one day, perhaps, if I could spend the night.

One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
when we were ready, we would go to bed
and kiss and make unhurried love.
Or, equally unhurried, we would not.
And we would listen to the wind and rain
and kiss and make unhurried love again.
Or, equally unhurried, we would not.
And we would sleep, egg and spoon together,
with each of us at peace.
And everything,
in both our worlds,
would be just right,
one day,
perhaps,
if I could spend the night.