found snow friday

this morning
my bed
whispered to me this:

"turn the snow up
leave it on
and come back to me
nestle yourself in
like the snow piled
in the crooks of those branches
tangle yourself in the sheets
like those twigs in the cold
twisting together for warmth
let the guitars' notes fall
around your face
like the flakes
and be the inspiration
to a
snow drift in and out
of that peaceful dream
when you are ready
and only when good and ready
rise from the soft jersey sheets
still warm from your body
(oh how happy your body makes us)
and makeacuppa
mochacappu
savor it
but savor more
the found time"