I'm writing a poem, to practice to write.

I ponder a subject all day and all night.

A subject eludes me, now my husband is home,

Coughing and hacking and chilled to the bone.

He's just told me something I was longing to hear.

He's brought a bottle of wine and for him also a beer.

We'll sit in front of the TV and cuddle and kiss.

As for the poem...I'll give it a miss!