Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Sex-Crazed Love Goddesses

It was still snowing. All the brown earth was covered with a blanket of snow. Mr. Martin shook the snow off his boots and set them by the fireplace to dry. Then he settled in an easy chair and drew close to the fire. He was cold after driving the team out from town. It was no night for even a dog to be out! A dog’s bone should be given to him by the fire on a night like this, he thought. The cattle were in their barn anyway. Just then Mr. Martin looked up and saw his wife coming through the door, a pan of hot sugar cookies in her hand. As he ate, he said, “Mary, if I could write a poem, I wouldn’t write about winter coming and the crops being in, or about white snow and a warm fire in the stove. I’d write about your sugar cookies, hot out of the oven!”