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.