Of course,
the coldest night on earth,
there's no one around.
Even farmboy's too cold
to get up and come down.
And I didn't ask him to.
Not sure if
I'd even
ask you.
The problem with
this weather is
it never matters
whether it's
actually
warm inside.
In winter,
I think
we're just meant to collide.
Body heat
warms a soul;
a good excuse,
is the cold;
well, gents, I'm not looking
to get tied to
your ropes.
I want him in Spring,
with flowers.
I'd prefer
daylight hours to you
waffling dusk dwellers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Falling victim to the frost, we'd love to be thawed by sweet sultry love...ahhh, awaiting springtime, as well...a nicely penned reminder. PEACE