Oh my dear, is it hot in here or could it just be me? There is a smoldering fire, filling me with desire, does it show, can you see? It’s as though my thoughts are rapid fire fanning the flames as they shoot higher than that old pine tree. I’ve just got to scratch this itch, my fingers are restless, see how they appear to twitch so there’s only one thing that can set me free… I’ve got to write another BOOK!
©2015 Annette Rochelle Aben