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Tag Archives: fireplace poem

  • Fireplace

    The weather outside is sunny and hot,
    I know I can tell, central air on still.
    Grass is still growing, leaves are green,
    sitting here waiting for that first
    morning chill.

    Turning to look at our fireplace,
    needs a good cleaning if we plan to use.
    Gathering my bucket, scrub brush and gloves,
    one kitty is already trying to amuse.

    Took down the screen to bring outside,
    easier to just hose it and leave it to dry.
    By the time I came in to get this all started,
    one kitty was sitting rubbing her eye.

    Bucket was toppled, suds were everywhere,
    another kitty was sitting in a pile of soot.
    Picked up Alex, wiped the soap from her eye,
    but Cassie was covered from head to foot.

    Filled up the sink with warm water and soap,
    gently washed Cassie until she was clean.
    Wrapped her up in a towel and rubbed
    her dry,
    until I could see her coat had a nice sheen.

    Now the floors were a mess from being wet,
    towels and old blankets to soak up the water.
    Robert awoke hearing the chatter and noise,
    observing the scene he laughed at my falter.

    Mind you the fireplace was still unclean,
    he said take the kitties and go inside.
    We stayed in that room for what seemed
    like hours,
    he cleaned everything up and restored
    my pride.

    Written by:
    Karen Palumbo

  • Armies in the Fire

    Armies in the Fire
    By Robert Louis Stevenson

    The lamps now glitter down the street;
    Faintly sound the falling feet;
    And the blue even slowly falls
    About the garden trees and walls.

    Now in the falling of the gloom
    The red fire paints the empty room:
    And warmly on the roof it looks,
    And flickers on the back of books.

    Armies march by tower and spire
    Of cities blazing, in the fire;--
    Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
    The armies fall, the lustre dies.

    Then once again the glow returns;
    Again the phantom city burns;
    And down the red-hot valley, lo!
    The phantom armies marching go!

    Blinking embers, tell me true
    Where are those armies marching to,
    And what the burning city is
    That crumbles in your furnaces!

  • The Fireplace

    THE FIREPLACE
    by Anne R. C. Neale

    I see the glow of the yellow and red flames
    As the fire burns so bright,
    It brings an inner warmth inside of me
    As I sit there by its light,

    The fireplace is so awesome,
    As the wood begins to glow,
    While outside in the yard you see
    Is hail and sleet and snow.

    The fire crackles and hisses
    As the flames burst way up high.
    A screen is in front of it
    To catch flying sparks, that is why,

    The aroma of the wood burning
    Is a pleasant smell indeed,
    Eating popcorn by the fireplace
    Is all that we now need.

    Sitting by a glowing fire
    In the fire place is great,
    It's fun to watch the beautiful flames
    While the wood does meet its fate.

    A fire in the fire place
    Is great and an awesome sight,
    It's beautiful and so peaceful too,
    Either in the day time, or at night.

  • The Fireplace

    There she sits at the place of fire
    Watching the flames leaping higher and higher
    The racing flames let her eyes sparkle green
    A cold and cruel beauty never before seen
    The face although formed of flesh and bone
    Is set and stern like a mask of stone
    Yet does in this sight no cruelty appear
    causing rather pity than fear
    Brown hair is framing this ivory face
    Embroidering it like a beautiful lace
    Opposite her a strange wanderer sits
    Tall but slender with eyes catlike slit
    He, too, is quiet, not moving at all
    Watching the fire's rise and fall
    His face has features alien and strange
    Fine but not human with the light they change
    Both were fearless warriors once
    Clad in armour both steel and bronze
    Many a fight in their lives they have seen
    Opposing evil wherever they have been
    But even they were defeated one day
    When an evil sorcerer crossed their way
    He damned them to live forever in trance
    To witness forever the same fires dance
    Yet the good forces on earth wished them well
    And altered the evil's casted spell
    One will come, never born to the land

    And the curse will be broken by his hand.

    by Ledro Norssad.

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