Before the Fireplace Warming
My mind comes alive during the witching hour
Sensuous and sharp the lines begin to flow,
While themes and phrases like blooms flower
In the garden, now dark, forbidding, bent low
Awaiting the first blasts of chilly wind and ice,
And then the warming blanket of frothy snow
And I before the fireplace warming will entice
A poem to bring itself to life in rhyming words,
I know it does happen, it has happened thrice
Before, as I watched the sparks drift upward
The thick logs turning into glowing-red embers,
Words coming quickly, often rhymes awkward
On the page. If the mind does not remember
I may rewrite a poem I wrote some time ago
Perhaps last September, October, November,
A year or longer still taunting my fragile ego
Sensuous and sharp the dormant lines will flow.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
written October 30, 2021
entered "December 28 Strand" Poetry Contest
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2021
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