NEWTS AND ME

When the chill winds blow and there's nowhere to go
The hearth's flames lend a comforting glow
Rocking on his easy chair, he sips a cup o' Joe.

When the chill winds blow and to somewhere he scoots
He dons winter regalia, hat, scarf, glove, coat and boots
Braced for the cold, steamy-breathed, out goes Newts.

The walk needs shoveling, the driveway, too,
Steps front and back, the car - so much diggin' to do
To warm-up he's armed with a thermos o' hot brew.

When all is done and he comes back all done in
His scarf and gloves are thrown in the laundry bin
Then he drinks his favorite, tonic with a spritz of gin.

Sizzling steak aroma fills the entire first floor
As the dinner hour nears, I hear Newts roar
"O my aching back is so awfully sore!"

The downstairs now has the aroma of Ben Gay
I slather his back as prone he does gently lay
In 15 minutes he says, "Thanks, Hon, I'm okay."

Dinner done, washer loaded, I'm tired now, too
And join Newt by the fireplace sipping our favorite brew
Basking in the fact there's nothing left to do.

After sometime we both become drowsy and doze
Upon waking up we both felt lousy and rose
To go up to bed and cover up to the nose
The chill winds blow
and socks warm our toes.

© Mel Patterson, 1-1-11