Best Fireplaces Poems
How special is a Christmas filled with the delight
of children as they rush down to the decorated tree
after having barely slept through the entire night.
Sweet anticipation on their faces all can see,
for they can’t wait to tear the wrapping off their gifts with glee.
How special is a Christmas filled with love and peace
as One born in a humble stable with reverence we recall.
Oh, that joy in all the world might finally increase
as we remember Him, an infant once so small
Who grew into the mighty Lord Who died to save us all.
How special is a Christmas filled with fun and song,
with jingle bells and sugar cookies and fireplaces’ glow.
Oh, that generosity were more than just one season long
and that the Christmas spirit inside us all would grow
so God’s love manifested all the world would know!
Written Christmas Eve 2022
for Emile Pinet's A Christmas Special Poetry Contest
Categories:
fireplaces, christmas,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Now Christmas in July seems crazy - I’m sure I hear you say
That has got to be plain silly - but this is the Aussie way
Christmas is in December you insist it’s a well-known fact
But in this land way ‘Down Under’ our seasons are ‘out of whack’
July is Aussie winter while in December it's scorching hot
Those Three Wise Men may know the reason but then again maybe not!
A time for relaxing with family and friends spreading the good cheer
Sip a glass of Lilly Pilli wine or toast with a VB beer
Frosty Christmas in December - for some it seems so right
Tinsel and baubles festooned - Oh what a delightful sight
Presents around the Christmas tree decked with lights and holly
Cheery little Santa’s look so happy and so jolly
In December air-cons turned cold mimicking our winter in July
When Santa rode his sleigh down south to Oz coming from the land up high
With a Ho Ho Ho he now powers his jet ski - riding mighty waves
He coasts straight onto our golden sands joining parting people and raves
Remember my friends it is a time filled with Peace and Joy
To commemorate the Special Birth of a Baby Boy
Worry not friends we don’t miss out on all that wintry good cheer
For you see folks here in OZ - Christmas always comes twice a year
Author’s Note:
'Christmas in July', which is also known as Yulefest or Yuletide in Australia. July is generally the coldest month of winter, so celebrations emulate the atmosphere of the northern hemisphere winter. So that means hearty food like roasts, and warm drinks in front of fireplaces and bonfires. Don’t be alarmed folks! – Just for the record, here in Oz we have a second helping and do celebrate Christmas on 25th December with the rest of the world.
~‘out of whack’ - An Aussie term for ‘Out of Sync’~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Synopsis from the composer of the song and clip -
"The Aussie Christmas Song" by Batesy. Published on Dec 18, 2012
‘One Christmas eve I was singing carols about dashing through the snow & a white Christmas and thought "Aussies don't have snow at Christmas" and it was also 30 degrees outside, so The Aussie Christmas Song was born, it's about sun, sand, backyard cricket, pavlova, and a cold beer - Ah!! - Sing along!!!’
Categories:
fireplaces, celebration, christmas, funny, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album of the timeless, it is a
Pressed flower of remembrance, never to be forgotten,
In the days of wine and roses.
As champion kisses are exchanged between the
Youthful hearts of the innocent, another cork
Is popped, in this cozy interlude of memory’s repast,
Shattered lies this tempered fragile glass, smashed
Against the fireplaces inner mantel, leaving a frothy
Foams liquid behind, causing the crackles embers to
Burn higher with passions flame,
In the days of wine and roses.
Hand cut floral arrangements, plucked apart
Then tossed asunder, a petals trail to silken sheets
Of pleasure, sorrow’s bedding is lined with feathers
Down, angel wings tender sheathing to protect the
Wounded child of innocence, curled inside perfection’s
Illusionary dream, evolving into a flowering silhouette of
Womanhood.
In shad’s refection of repose, she weeps thus diamond
Tears that float away amongst the Lilley thorns, within the
Rippling pool of the timeless,
Oh those were the farewells for-get-me-knots,
To those days of wine and roses.
Valentines shaped boxes shredded into confections confetti,
Thrown into the air of clarity at the ticker tape parade
Of the broken heartbeat, as it explodes into a zillion pieces,
Tissues spent candy wrappers used to wipe away, moistures
Sorrows of regrets folly, thus the tender reed bends into
The winds of emotion,
Behold the tokens price of loves devotion,
Back in the days of wine and roses.
Vintage bouquets of elegance, tarnished with age,
Yet still retaining lusters shine of everlasting beauty,
The faithful clinging to the shadows of the past,
Hopes dreaming romantic, waltzing in rheum with
Memories of illusion, showered by petals of color,
From those days of wine and roses.
Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album of the timeless, it is a
Pressed flower of remembrance, never to be forgotten,
In the days of wine and roses.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUN
Categories:
fireplaces, art, beauty, devotion, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Canticle of merriment
rings out the silver of bells
a tingle, a jingle chiming
wispy notes across frosty mist,
as hands clasp with a pealed language
warbling the same holiday bliss:
‘let there be peace on this earth’
while ornamental dingers trill
on pines, and around fireplaces.
Seasons cannot duplicate
the joy of Yuletide’s awakening,
for tassels of glorious cheer spill
to herald a reign of winter’s Light,
dressed in tinseled varnish...
until the silver of evening bells
tolls when heaven greets mankind,
and mankind greets Emmanuel’s heaven!
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Kelly Deschler’s Contest: Christmas Carols
12/13/2015
Categories:
fireplaces, christmas, sound,
Form:
Light Verse
My Childhood Home
My lovely childhood home, I miss it so...
built Eighteen Eighty-Six, so long ago.
Three floors, all rooms with mantled fireplaces;
carved woodwork, archways, spindled winding stair;
cathedral ceilings, sparkling chandelier
in dining room enjoyed on holidays.
Third floor not used but built with parkay floors
and doors that opened to small balconies.
Off the front door, a porch wrapped 'round two sides...
was like a fairy tale when I was young.
Such lovely grounds; garage with two horse stalls
and covered sleigh with velvet seats of red.
White gravel paths with gardens either side;
the rolling lawn, majestic tall pine trees
and rippling stony brook below the hill.
My childhood home fulfilled my childhood dreams–
so happy there with my dear family.
Until I married, it was home to me.
And since home now is not too far from it–
I often pass the site of my old house.
On left, before I pass under the bridge
that sprawls across the Hudson River now–
the empty view brings sadness to my heart.
To build that bridge they tore my old home down–
the only house to make this sacrifice–
The vision of my childhood home is gone.
As I ride by I feel them wave to me...
the ghosts of past, and my dear family.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Enchanted House
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 05/23/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: A Child's First Home
Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker
Judged: 10/17/2015
Note: Newburgh-Beacon Bridge was completed and opened in November 1963
New York State claimed our home via eminent domain and purchased it in 1960
Categories:
fireplaces, childhood, home,
Form:
Blank verse
Happiness is heaven, ecstasy gratifying
Sensual and satisfaction zest and delight.
I am quite confident; it comes all the year round.
It comes in the springtime when new buds appear
And nature's perfume fecundates the parks.
The season is warmer and children can play,
Listen to them, it’s laughter all the way.
It comes in summer, with hot and humid days,
We lie near each other savoring our ways.
The sea is calm and bathers can enjoy
Both a refreshing swim or some cold lollipops.
It comes in autumn with air that's so crisp
As the first snowflakes bring down the red dry leaves.
Thanksgiving is organized, a sumptuous feast.
Tilled harvested fields prepared as the chill is a beast.
But wet windy winter comes cold and hoary days
Snowfalls cover the roads and all stay snug in homes,
Everywhere fireplaces radiate warmth and shelter,
For many people think that happiness is not far away.
And so, as the year draws to a miserable end,
Let’s open a bubbly, and happy greetings send.
Categories:
fireplaces, celebrity, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
Xmas enchantment
White flakes falling from grey winter skies
Flocks of daffodils beneath snowy mounds lie
Rivers of red candy canes flow gently by
Along evergreen banks, dew covered grasses,
lighted trees and sparkling wine
Covered with bows and laces
Sitting round hearths and fireplaces
Covered in quilts lying in their beds
Children dream of warm kitchen counters
decorated with mountains of treasure,
cookies, cakes ,and pleasures
Ginger bread men and sugar plum fairies
Dance with visions floating in their heads
smiling chocolate faces melting sugar
with passionate kisses and soft gooey embraces
Long stringed bands from every land
Serenade lovers and places with unparalleled restrain
Stringing chords from haunting refrains
Under blue moons and starry skies
Where soft whispers lead to lovely lies
Blood races with wine and champagne
The night unravels exciting lovers and friends
Couples planning extravaganzas travel
Staircases covered in pine scented garlands and laces
Leading to pleasant places, dreams and fairy tale lands
celebration halls with room to dance
Spreading the cheer to every face
Or any kind of differing race
Merry Christmas to one and all
Categories:
fireplaces, christmas, daffodils,
Form:
Rhyme
A memory turns
the windmills of the mind
to a season of summer breeze,
where happiness blows
cherished moments
into youthful hearts
the windmill turns once more
to a season defined by
falling leaves
where love endures
in hues of red and gold
the windmill spins
to distant winter winds
where, by cozy fireplaces
love finds a warm embrace
..
Categories:
fireplaces, memory, wind,
Form:
Free verse
Boughs of evergreens grace mantles above fireplaces.
Children await Santa Claus with smiles on their faces.
Beribboned wreaths are hung on many a front door,
but to me the spirit of Christmas means so much more.
The greatest gift was not found beneath a tinseled tree.
It was Jesus Christ, who gave up his life for you and me.
Humbly born, he was laid upon a bed of straw in a stall.
God gifted us His only begotten son to give hope to us all.
A present so very precious, one that we can never repay.
He bestowed on us a Savior, the babe born Christmas Day.
We must always hold dear to how much we are blessed,
as we sing 'Joy to the World' when our love is expressed.
We fill our churches with candles, admiring their glow.
As moonlight shines across white fields of fallen snow,
we pray, giving thanks to God, remembering to be meek,
for it's our Father's divine favor that we reverently seek.
Christmas is a time for Christians to celebrate and rejoice,
praising the Lord in lyrical hymns raised in adoring voice.
With myriads of Angels in chorus, let us worship and sing,
"All glory to God," as the bells from church steeples ring.
The true Christmas spirit is not gifts with huge price tags
or new toys for children that fill too many shopping bags.
It should proclaim "peace on earth, good will toward men."
So, to this end we pray to God in the name of Jesus, Amen.
Categories:
fireplaces, beautiful, christmas, poems,
Form:
Rhyme
When snow starts falling in Canada
We know winter games shall begin.
Do we just sit around fireplaces?
No, that would be a sin.
Snowball fights daily in our schoolyards,
Till the bell calls them in.
Rosie red cheeks on children,
Mittens with scarf’s and hats,
Snowmen in every front yard,
Put away are the bats.
Indoors a haven for cats.
Ski’s out and waxed,
Skates sharp as knives,
Skating rinks are full
Of children, husband, wives.
Tobogganing so exiting,
Curling extremely fun,
Hockey, number one.
Cold feet,
Hot chocolate.
Winter.
10.14.2014
Andrea Dietrich’s Contest
I do not Know
7th
Categories:
fireplaces, cool, fun, hockey, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
Warmth within orange flames,
lighting darkness.
With that power
comes danger.
You hurt my mother,
changed her...
inside and out.
Her confidence gone
replaced with anger
and hurt.
You have left your mark
with scars.
Do you need more?
That selfish pride of fire
needed more than weeks
in agony.
Years of regret
physical wounds
did not satisfy her.
Her mind changed.
Her poise, smile, outlook,
all altered.
My fear of you has grown.
Fireplaces no longer friendly.
Unlit candles, gifts unused.
When will you strike again?
Not on me.
I cannot lose
what you took from her.
Categories:
fireplaces, daughter, fear, fire, mother,
Form:
Free verse
Who could forget what happened on that unsuspecting and sunny day,
when no visible clouds drifted over the Twin Towers?
Little after midnight, the cool rain adds to the melancholy
of the descending angels; and I join them in prayer to remember the tragedy!
This should be a day of remembrance, not of hatred for the ignoble acts
the wicked committed, but would God accept unkindness instead of merciful deeds?
They called it another day of infamy,
and like Pearl Harbor we were taken by surprise;
that was an attack aimed at the military,
but on September 11 the terrorists attacked the civilians!
It seemed like lightning striking down sturdy trees,
and then fire broke out with smoke trails of a thousands feet;
" O my God! ", every employee screamed...quickly running down
the stairs engulfed by fire...causing an indescribable chaos everywhere!
" Take my hand, I will lead you to safety! " the firefighter said to the coughing woman.
" Hold onto my arm! " the policeman yelled out to the frail man,
who had dropped his eyeglasses and couldn't see!
Every firefighter and policeman acted like them, rescuing many without fearing death;
and hundreds of them, that awful morning, never returned home alive...
what a tragedy for their families that watched in horror and couldn't help!
Who wouldn't remember the courage of their noble and willing hearts?
And furthermore, who wouldn't engrave their valorous names on plaques and monuments?
Up above, by the gates of Paradise...Christ and His Father awaited them to accept their souls;
while archangels surrounding God's throne, sung hymns that humans couldn't sing...
those hymns that all the earthly heroes will sing with them when Heaven mourns again!
Their portraits, pictures and memorabilia hang above the fireplaces,
and on the decorated walls of the victims' homes, precincts and firehouses;
how could anybody take them down as they were worthless items?
Prize them more than gold or diamonds, o friends grieving that tremendous loss even today;
don't hate those who caused you sorrow and unbearable pain, be forgiving and show mercy...
as God does toward us; o friends remember your heroes for their valor and sacrifice!
My poem is dedicated to the victims and survivors of the September 11 attacks on America.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
fireplaces, death, history, loss, people,
Form:
Narrative
Glints of stardust drip of winter's essence
as frills of Sagittarian ornaments
ring in the birth of a cycle
flickering with the tempo
of mid-December’s equinox: she is
the twelfth month; the last goddess of angels,
kindling seraphic night passages
and fireplaces robed in leaves
of serenity and thawing roses...
phrase by phrase, page for page, arm in arm
with a hymnal litany,
the goddess of laced winds glides
on an altar of sacred eyes and lips,
chanting about gods, children ,and love.
Inhabiting a residence in grotto white,
she holds iced lanterns and dahlias
to unfurl a season's finesse...
O angel of twelfth handmaid,
time will sing her ripened hope, her celestial rhyme
to revel in a tender parade
of flakes only evening's quilt can ever wrap.
Angel of the twelfth handmaid,
half- luminous, twice-content
virtues pure will encircle halo's Light, amen!
Categories:
fireplaces, december, imagery, inspirational,
Form:
Imagism
sordid floors
dark paths
lily scented nights
crispy country air
crackling fireplaces
shadows under the moon
sounds of the night
silence in the dark
mingling
tangoing
in perfect pitch
the harmonious beat
of intoxicating drums
the twirling dance
of dizzying
village
love
Categories:
fireplaces, adventure, cute love, funny
Form:
Free verse
The Founding Grandfather
By Elton Camp
Ask “What did Benjamin Franklin do?”
Find that most can recall only one or two.
“Poor Richard’s Almanac he did write,”
Or else, “He’s that guy who flew the kite.”
The facts of history are growing dim
If that’s all that’s remembered of him.
In the colonies, since books were so rare.
To organize the first library he did care.
Because fires were not easy to control,
The first city fire department did mold.
A fire might a family’s finances wipe out,
So he brought the first fire insurance about.
Fireplaces in homes allowed people to freeze.
“There must be a better way to heat than these.”
To that end, he successfully strove
And developed the Franklin stove.
Because his stove was for the public good,
He refused to take out a patent as he could.
When to age people had to concede,
His bifocal glasses met their need.
Declaration of Independence he helped compose
It was by a group of five and he was one of those.
Most of it came from Thomas Jefferson’s mind,
But Benjamin Franklin helped the words to refine.
Minister he was made to France.
The colonies cause to advance.
The king said, “I think Ben’s so funny
That I’ll gladly lend the needed money.
But it would be incomplete to fail to say
That the elderly statesman had feet of clay.
He was only a young man
When his misconduct began.
“This boy is my own son, no doubt,
But his mother I know little about.”
In his autobiography is advice
That certainly isn’t all that nice.
He told men what was the trick
When a mistress they did pick.
“Great Whoremaster” was his name
Even to those who admired his fame.
Of the Founders he was the oldest,
Though also one of the very boldest.
So Benjamin Franklin it wouldn’t bother
To call him the “Founding Grandfather.”
Categories:
fireplaces, historypeople, fire, fire, people,
Form:
Rhyme