It's that time of year
When a warm blanket, and someone to cuddle to is all you need.
A little soft music, and your good to go.
It's so much better then fighting with the traffic,
And alot warmer then shoveling snow.
Maybe a hot tottie to relax you
And no mittens needed.
But don't forget to make him dinner,
You will have to feed him.
Now that you have all that out of the way
The rest of the night is yours.
The kids are gone, so take him upstairs.
But first lock the doors.
I think you can take it from there
You don't need me to tell you what to do.
What ever else goes on in that room
Is totally up to you two.
10/21/04
Dianna Nally
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem