Poetry

Time slowed, the growing chill
Froze its tireless hands as the
Frost crept to every corner and 
Settled immaculately on the wall clock.
 
The evening turned from customary
To overwhelmingly romantic
As a we exchanged careless glances
Over a steaming potion in the chinaware.
 
Sun slipped from the mountain perch
Its last rays died by the table legs
And a new glow was stroked to life
That pronounced our candle lit dinner.
 
The tempt of nature mounted outside
With congeniality to my thoughts
And the poet within was just about to
Transcend the physical and live greater ecstasies.
 
But you vengefully rose from the seat,
Drew the curtains over the window
And killed a beautiful evening
With the attribute of a jealous lover.