Stormy Romance

in a house made for one, there
is always room for two, to watch
rain drops slither down panes as
thunder roars, i quiver when alone;
i want you near, to hold and bring
words of reassurance to my ear, to
crack a fire and open a book, to
reach for the blanket from inside the
nook, talking softly into the still air, 
while feeling your hand keeping me
from despair, the light dancing on
the ceiling too intimate for only me, as
the sky jolting sparks are finally set free, 
forcing us closer, together, dark
red wine cloaked by inclement
weather; we need more candles,
or maybe this is just fine.

                                         Jaymes Ian Woode

P.S.

side note, graphs, or a memo,
photo in black and grey, faded,
canvas splattered in imaginative
colors, doorways, corridors, a
crack in the sky, clouds rushing,
filling space, eyes open, a
door, or window, green, brown,
and red, leaves drop, piling, 
mounds of snow, mittens and
hats, ice-scapers scrape by, not alone,
cocoa, tea, bedtime by the fire, dreams
of running, fields of wheat, golden,
rising sun, years pass, history, ours,
you and me, time passes, love stills us.

                                      Jaymes Ian Woode