Outside, cold icy fingered wind, bites
Whistles down stone chimneys, inside
Amber flames flickering in the hearth,
Shadows dance across the wall,
Candle sputtering in the draught
Casting an eerie glow cross the page
The book being read, strange tales
Outside the wind surges, lashing
Rain against the leaden panes
Warm and cosseted against the storm
The page is turned, the story continued
A single scratch at the window,
And a rattling of the latch
Heavy door squeaks open,
On old heavy hinges
The book drops …
Fingers slowly slide round
Gripping the doors edge
Skin grey, taught against bones
The Reader’s eyes riveted
On this unfolding chapter