I believe in fires at midnight ---

when the dogs have all been fed.

A golden toddy on the mantle ---

a broken gun beneath the bed.

Silken mist outside the window.

Frogs and newts slip in the dark ---

too much hurry ruins the body.

I'll sit easy ... fan the spark

kindled by the dying embers of another working day.

Go upstairs ... take off your makeup ---

fold your clothes neatly away.

Me, I'll sit and write this love song

as I all too seldom do ---

build a little fire this midnight.

It's good to be back home with you