Best Inglenook Poems

In the heart of the humble countryside,
Where nature's beauty does coincide,
There lies an inglenook, a cherished place,
Where love and warmth forever embrace.

The inglenook stands, a...

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Inglenook 

She, the face in the embers, 
The remnants of a raging fire,
Smoulders like a cigarette
Between lips of lustful desire. 

Where men stoke in gay...

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I shall resolve to leave this
Place now...
And steadfastly search out,
Nestling between ridge and bluff
Amidst the folds of a foreign 
Land,
Several acres of unkempt ground
Fallow and...

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Forgive my fatigued fingers as they get lost in the calligraphy of your curvature,
Outlining a hypnotic silhouette so provocative that my sinful glances feel forbidden;
Remind...

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I entered a village in Algonquin park
as dusk approached the tattered edges of dark.
And fell in love with the bucolic setting
all except for the mosquito’s...

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Oh, my Inglenook my Inglenook
a whole life time spent within thee,
my name is Ember 
I create patterns 
of dancing shadows
a need to be stoked constantly....

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In my home amidst the bucolic pine trees
My time spent at home is so fugacious.
Autumn has come to my halcyon garden.
Ephemeral summer has said her...

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Often, I get lost in my thoughts,
   in my inglenook by my hearth-
      I unwind knots;
all need these...

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Finally, she could get down on her knees again, not in prayer but to touch rosemary and lavender which had begun to send its fragrance...

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Windhoek, 2000

Nabucodonosor! thou shouldst be living at this epoch:
Namibia hath desire of thee: she is a quagmire
Of quiet rainwaters: slab, blade, and cage,
Inglenook, the courageous...

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Mr. Fireman please
furnish my stove with some fuel
two logs on the trigger is sufficient start the fire
gentle strokes on the hearth side will stir and...

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With that invisibilty of age
I can fly my life like a kite !
Uninvited and unseen,
albescent, grey, you know what I mean,
( not the first flush...

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Though the years he remembers
blue skies some that turn to grey 
an inglenook of burning embers,
verdant pastures turning to hay
the snow rides on Santa’s sleigh.

Yet...

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I don't know what exactly attracted me to it
I don't know why or how it resonated within me

Something old and characterful, perhaps it saw an...

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One Step from the Fire

Martha lounges in her rocking chair book in knotted hand in her studio

On the wall a poster of Chipperfield Circus whom...

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