Lock slowly turned, wood door shut tight,
No knocks disturb mendacious light,
Adventure sought was not inside,
But beckoned where the frost reside,
How silent, tranquil, was the night,
While waiting for that fated sight,
Her company drew me from home,
Soft word was heard by us alone,
Delectable dessert, so sweet,
Was simply snack, her voice the treat,
If sleep be death, and dawn be birth,
Then she and I were all of Earth.

by Brian Merski

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