When you,

my darling of three spring times

climb in with me, in the morning early

when woke from dreaming or from birdies chorus

And I fold you into me.

 The coldest parts of you,

though torture to my sleep warm flesh,

 I suffer gladly

to make you warm again.

 Your frozen feet allowed to

kick into my doughy tum

your hands, reach for my armpits

 this I allow.

Your face so close to mine I cannot see you

but for furry colours

a wide line of pink for mouth

set in a peachy frame

I breathe your breath

you mine

it clogs my lungs and makes

me roll my eyes in panic

but then,

as I open my lids and look and you, hearing the ungluing too

open yours,

little slits, showing sleepy sloes

the pink spreads slowly o’er your face

you smile.