How I loved those cosy winter evenings,

with the screeching wind 

slamming rain onto the living-room window.

Me and my brother in pyjamas, 

dressing-gowns pulled tight,

snuggled into the warmth of our mum, 

as she hugged us close, and heat from the glowing coals 

tingled my unslippered toes.

But how I hated the rolling of the closing credits

of the latest Columbo mystery, knowing

it was nearly time to leave

the only heated room in the house.