i stand in front of the Bath,
Taking a moment to enjoy the experience before it starts.

Stream rises from the Surface,
Like butterflies over a field
of fresh spring blossoms
It hovers, seductively inviting me in with a lazy sense if urgency.

In the corner, a lone Candle flickers in the rising Steam,
Lazily shining its Light
Like a Capetonian on a lazy summers evening sipping wine under the setting sun.

The Water,
blue from the bubblebath,
Smells like an orange, ancient, triangular spire in the early dawn of Time.

The hot Water receives my body
And awakens hibernating skin
From its cold, white winter's slumber.

The curious Water
Finds its way all over my skin
In every corner it can,
It crawls into
And caresses me softly

Slowly I relax,
As Sir Isaac Newton makes my bath colder
And as my skin and water temperatures equalise
I lose all sense of self

Held afloat by the mighty Water
I gaze at the white bubbles
As they dance on my chest
Popping and merging
Reflecting light and whispering
Until I finally fall asleep in blissful relaxation.