Warm Sunday Morn

Laid back langor

Flames race up the fireback

As sparks burst beneath the latest logs

The largest is well past seasoned

It will not last long in this late Winter third load of wood

Radiance warms my forehead and stretched out right foot

As I sit in laid back acceptance of my masonic mastery

The carved wooden fish caught in the inlaid brick joints

Smiles and stares forever up at the Four by eight mantel

It's the cast off of a wooden spoon 

carved twenty five or more years ago and burnt here

When it cracked after years of use.

The fish smiles on

The fire spits and sputters

for more wood.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

I can see what you are looking at and I can feel the warmth.

[An Ordinary Woman]

Honestly, my wood stove is one of my favorite things. I get to go on long kindling walks and get up early to fiddle with the fire, make roar again. I love that. And I love this poem. :)

[Ed Hart]

ooooooh!!! this is so good

[Emily B]

it was a good day for lazing