I believe in fires at midnight ---
  when the dogs have all been fed.
  A golden toddy on the mantle ---
  a broken gun beneath the bed.
  Silken mist outside the window.
  Frogs and newts slip in the dark ---
  too much hurry ruins the body.
  I'll sit easy ... fan the spark
  kindled by the dying embers of another working day.
  Go upstairs ... take off your makeup ---
  fold your clothes neatly away.
  Me, I'll sit and write this love song
  as I all too seldom do ---
  build a little fire this midnight.
  It's good to be back home with you.