When the hearth shall burn,
Hestia incarnate, my love she turns.
Faces me, brings me close,
Reminds an insecure heart, it she chose.
A sombre wish for a lasting pyre,
Of wood and timber feeding the fire.
Her hands when cold; warmth, my gift,
Endless sleep in passion, together we drift.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
When the hearth shall burn,
Hestia incarnate, my love she turns.
Faces me, brings me close,
Reminds an insecure heart, it she chose.
A sombre wish for a lasting pyre,
Of wood and timber feeding the fire.
Her hands when cold; warmth, my gift,
Endless sleep in passion, together we drift.
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