Posted: February 24, 2012 in Uncategorized

This is a little poem paying tribute to one of my favorite past times. Building and sitting in front of an open fire. My father taught me well. He taught me to be careful, respectful and most of all to relax and enjoy the beauty and magnificence of fire. This one’s for you dad.

It begins with hunting

And gathering

And anticipation

A need to be met

A labor of love


Small twigs

And burnable things

Given up by the landscape

The waste

The materials which usefulness

Has expired

The shreds of the trees

All will be given

A respectful and dignified




Burried beneath

Many Falls

Of dampened leaves


Of what the wind and weather

Brought down

My found treasures

To heap and feed

The flames


The ritual

The building

The architecture

That will assure

A sturdy foundation

Conducive to a spark

Igniting into a blaze

To keep me warm

Within the invisible

Parameters of its intensity


It is with gratitude

And most humble appreciation

I strike the match

To my bounty

Paying my respects

To what nature has provided

So that I may enjoy

And be renewed

And revived

By the beauty

And grace

Of the eruptive dance

Of combustion


Relaxed, I sit



Mind uncluttered

To make room

For the melding

The reuniting

With a dear

Old friend

One who has kept me company

On many a chilly night

One who has kept me occupied

With its insatiable hunger

One who endlessly entertains me

With a bold miriad of color and light

And one who captures

My vivid imagination

And craving

To tame the wild

To control

What could very well

Become out of control

If not in such careful and

Loving hands


February 24, 2012

Coventry CT

  1. terrepruitt says:

    Debra is correct.

    This is awesome. It captures so much that I have felt about a fire, but never really thought about it. Never thought to form such words to make such a beautiful tribute to fire. I especially love the last portion your old friend who kept you company, entertained you, and captured your imagination, and you knowing it could become out of control without your careful loving hands.


    This was kind like a fire. It starts out small, slow, and respectful, but then gets big and roaring, and it is kind of sad when it is done. Yeah, this is exactly like a fire!


  2. dani says:

    an art to be envied, my bestie! {at least you didn’t write about rubbing two sticks together to start it, but i bet you could!} i enjoyed this ~ beautifully written bunny!
    ♥ *Love* & *Hugs*

  3. Becky says:

    Wonderful mamalove!

  4. OpinionsToGo says:

    This is simply the best piece I’ve read all day. To tell us everything that is “given up by the landscape,” to create this thing called fire, ends up as a beautifully crafted poem.

  5. j says:

    SO cool. This is my poem for today. xo

  6. This is why you must NEVER stop writing….you are simply an amazing writer. I throughly enjoyed this piece!!!

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