By terry
Date: 13 November 2000
Late To Your Arms
I made it
Barely
As the snow deepens on the twisting mountain road
And the ridge is blanketed in pure white
But I pushed the limits of this tired old truck and tempted God
And fate
To stop me if they dared.
And as I open the cabin door
The snow blows in at my feet
And I pull my boots off right there
Toes numb from the freeze.
But my heart is warmed by the sight above,
You in the loft
Wrapped in that old feather tick
And about four quilts from the look
And sleeping soundly
Snug as a bug in a rug.
And the fire glows faintly, almost out.
So I add some tender and stroke it hot
And above I can hear you whispering in your sleep again
Telling me about your day
So I strip down in the heat
And climb the steps
Slipping into the toasty warm tick
And slip my arms around your waist, kissing your forehead
Only to see those sleepy eyes open
And a smile light your face
As your hands find my cheeks
And you whisper welcome home beloved
Just before your sweet kiss
Finds my lips once again.
Sweet dreams babygirl.
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