The wild winter wind
blows down the hills
and across the glens.
It bites my face fiercely
with a nettle-like sting,
but the feeling is negligible,
because as each gust blows,
it blows me closer, closer to your door.
Inside the fire burns
in the hearth and in my heart
and the flickering flames light
your beautiful face up in the dark.
Outside as the storm grows stronger
our rapturous passion reaches an end,
as we lie contentedly entwined in a knot
listening to the melodic howling of the wind.