Autumn

Tonight there should be blankets curled in piles
Around a roaring fire, in whose smoke
The bright reflection of a pair of smiles
Should float in ghostly happiness; a cloak
Should be thrown over shoulders cuddling
A mug, whose scent should waft enticingly
Across the fire, while the puddling
Remnants of the pot are stirred, to be
Re-heated and rejuvenated. There
Should be tight hugs exhanged not just for heat,
While every instinct shows the need to share
The moment with another to complete
The sense of joy. And in the end there should
Be soft content around the burning wood.