Rosewood soap,
Rough on the skin,
Damp and pink with heat,
Two candles, citrus, all natural,
Burning on the windowsill,
Three locks on the door, no solicitors please,
And a long, chilled glass of strawberry puree,
Mixed in with tart lemonade.
The snow falls in thick clusters outside,
Swirling and threatening to keep me inside,
Ah, so be it – inside I shall stay.
Discarded Recollections 