Rather than dinner, walk with me,

take my hand, lean into my arm

and let the sky be the canopy over our head,

each twinkling point a decoration for our amusement.

Wear something warm, something comfortable,

leave the fancy dress for another party

and talk to me,

or whisper,

or say nothing at all, 

but walk in the cold night air.

Fill my world,

my only focus,

until I see nothing in the sky but a connection to you.