Showing posts from January, 2017

Playing With Fire

There is something so Satisfying in stoking The ashes of a dying fire, Not in some metaphorical Or symbolic sense, But very real comfort In the welcoming warmth, Or the gorgeous orange glow Of hidden embers Flaring like favourite memories Ready to live again With the right fuel and fresh air, The naive thrill of Playing with danger, The power in knowing All that you have burned And what you could yet destroy, Erase, hide away, Scattering the remnants Through the gaps in the grate, A quick cosmetic cleaning Of the fireplace, Just dust left to smoulder underneath, Hidden behind the bars of the guard.