I hear the tick tock ticking clock,
And the chimes as it strikes:
Nine on the mantel top.
The fire pop pops and crackle cracks,
As the silence of the snowy night
Rap tap taps at the door.
There is nobody here;
now or ever before;
But the fire burns
And the clock ticks on -
And will only stop when the time is all gone.
The comfy sheets, and those puffy pillows
ay permanently plump,
The last pops and crackles from the hearth,
The quick cold footsteps
And the slump and the two bodies jump
Retreating for the night.
In the ticking clock I wait,
Tending to the fire
The kettle at the boil,
Ready for desire,
I keep the pillows plumped
And the home a beacon in the night,
That her adrift in the snow dark sky will see my light.
Yet still there is wine and tea and food to eat,
Warmed toes by the fire.
What can I do,
Everything is ready.
All I need is you.