NeuroDivine

The fire within the front-room glows,
A quiet, tender light;
The kitchen stove would warm the house,
But needs more wood tonight.

I know I should step out and fetch
A bundle from the yard;
Yet here the flames breathe soft and low,
And rising feels too hard.

But Andrew, steady, kind, and sure,
Will bring the firewood in;
He’ll light the stove and stir its heart
To chase the evening’s chill.

So still I sit, while warmth unfolds
From hearth and home combined;
A peaceful room, a glowing fire,
And love that keeps us kind.