Valentine For My Husband

Being the first up, I softly close your door,
and creep downstairs,
dog at my heels, panting for attention.
The day is overcast,
church tower, meadows and hills beyond,
shrouded in morning mist,
loom at me through the window,

I feed the dog,
and put the kettle on.
Two teapots stand ready,
fennel for me, builder's for you.
Two of everything,
bowls, cups, spoons,
one jug of milk,
one jug of orange juice, two glasses.
Gently exploding oatmeal hissing
in its pot upon the stove.

Headlines scream of death and discord,
a people bleeding in the name of God;
warring factions proclaim the justice of their cause.
Freedom and what to do with it,
if only we knew the way.
Peace a distant dream,
fervently prayed for, rarely achieved.

Your tread upon the stairs,
announces your descent.
a dog's tail thumps the floor in ecstasy.
The kitchen, warm and welcoming,
the table waiting for the two of us.
I turn my my head towards you,

look into your face,
we smile.
You run your hand over my shoulder.
'Good morning love',  'Good morning'.

A shaft of sunlight breaks the gloom.
The day begins.