A Fire-Side Poem
Poems should not be cosy
Like the warmth of a winter-
Fed fire. But imagery
And the far flaming giver
Of enlightenment attest
To the spark of an idea.
The flaming coals a hot nest
For the flickering nuance
Of words consumed like a log.
Slowly ingested in dance
The realisation warms
The soul, as the fire dog
Holds back the discarded words.
Engulfed in the destroying flames,
Destruction and creation
Licking into ghostly shape
Fragmentary Ideas
That escape vaporously
Like so much rising hot air.
Dave Urmston c 2016
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