The Fireplace

A poem

A burning so brilliant
calls the comfort
of colder months to
mind — the still chill
which brings a thrill
warmer than the
summer sun, and the
serene darkness
more loving than the
long light of June.
The pine cones’ crackling
and the logs’ sizzling
in the silence
need no beat
and no notes
as the flames upon
them do their dance.
The music they bring
is welcome as the
winter winds willingly
letting the snow
settle on the roof.
They shine like a
gift from a friend
in blue, green and red.
As spring makes its
way, I pray
it will delay
so that before May,
I can still delight
in the embrace
of the Arctic night.