With rain on the sills 

a slight chill in the air 

we sit, my arm over your shoulder

your hand in mine 

a squeeze now and then,

has me aware 

When your head’s on my shoulder

there are moments of silence

broken only by sips of hot tea,

and sharing something we’ve just read

do I remember  

that we are two 

With soup on the stove top, 

and bread in the oven,

to share later on,

I twist my head 

to plant kisses on yours

we lose our selves

When hearts’ are open

and blessed by silence 

two become one

and there’s nothing better 

than tenderness shared 

on an Autumn Sunday afternoon