I glance at the frosted pane,
the sun gives up its reign,
surrendering to the night
A cozy fire burns in the hearth,
wood smoked mixed with the smell of dinner,
my turn to cook.
She's late, the glass is dark
warm light from the candles
create a magical effect.
She'll be tired,
not expecting a romantic dinner.
A glance at the clock on the wall,
must be traffic holding her up.
Lights brighten the window for a flash,
a car door slams,
the heavy trod of weary feet.
The door opens,
and there she stands,
then that smile,
that makes my heart skip a beat.
Then tears brim in those green eyes
I did something right,
on that one quiet night.