Mimi 1200
A rainy Sunday afternoon
Cold and gray, yet I'm immune
For sitting here right next to me
Natural beauty in human form
A roaring fire, a cup of tea
In woolen socks, my heart is warm
There's no place else I'd rather be
Blissfully oblivious to any storm
A rainy Sunday afternoon
Cold and gray, yet I'm immune
On the stove a pot of sauce
On the counter a bottle of wine
Mere words escape, I'm at a loss
One cannot explain, much less define
A rainy Sunday afternoon
Cold and gray, yet I'm immune
The table is set, I'll pour the Bordeaux
The meatballs are ready, they told me so
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