Cinder Poems

The Cinder of Ella of the Cedars

                      Wood Nymph, wraps white 
gossamer legs in hello, as branch shakes 
in obvious "ka_ching"!
'Oh wait till you see what she does next", 
tattles the tree, in an excited and mischievous 
foreboding.
Itself, a Familiar

Cinder and Ash

There is a black fire that reigns upon this land
It burns beyond the red and yellow flames
Dead and done to skies of cinder and ash
To choke voices in the dread of darkest hours
We struggle to empower our meaning
While the giving light of hope
Rides on the slope of choice in its bond to truth
And now lays

Cinder of Urge

My heart encapsulates the hues of the sunburst sky,
the sensitive strokes of your yearning’s tender brush
paint purple passion of blooming rose in my garden,
on the convivial canvas cascade ripples of emotion.

The patina of enticement flushes your luring lips,
quivering with the cadence of the drenching dew,
graze on the glowing meadow of my fervent face,
at the acme

Cinder

Blossoms in the morning dew 
A beautiful larks singing from afar

I look at each and every you
Days traverse sun to star

Dark clouds moving in so fast
Cinders’ about to make a mark

Debauchery of ash and ruin
Flowers burned no more lark

How quick a dream can turn to black
Erased and smoldering clouds are dark

Remnants piled on the ground

Cinder Man

To ignite a life
within an empty fireplace
where the glow of the flame
reigns supreme,
reminds me
of a life time,
born and death
so, it seems.

For when the flame dies
and to rake through the ashes
sends a shiver down one’s
senescent spine,
knowing that one
similar day,
those embers
akin to mine.

© Harry J Horsman 2018

Cinder F Rella

Cinder...f...rella 

Yes...that's me...
Cinder...f...rella,
Cannot believe it,
Nearly twelve o clock

And you know what happens then,
Yes...you got it!
Back into my rags...

Magic's wearing off,
And my beauty fades,

Don't mind losing the cloths,
Don't even mind losing the shoe,
But draw the line at the make up,

Don't want anyone to see me,
So I run...
As fast as I can,

Leaving... Prince charm...behind,
With my slipper,

Having said

Cinder F Rella

Cinder...f...rella

Yes...that's me...
Cinder...f...rella,
Cannot believe it,
Nearly twelve o clock

And you know what happens then,
Yes...you got it!
Back into my rags...

Magic's wearing off,
And my beauty fades,

Don't mind losing the cloths,
Don't even mind losing the shoe,
But draw the line at the make up,

Don't want anyone to see me,
So I run...
As fast as I can,

Leaving... Prince charm...behind,
With my slipper,

Having said that,
He

On Writing Cinder Girl

My
best poem
was written
sometime before
two-thousand-seven, but
how, where, or why, I can’t
exactly say! Probably
it was based on a word challenge.
Most of my poetry has been birthed
from partaking in such activities.
Was it winter or summer; spring or fall?
Was it penned outside or on my bed?
Those facts have escaped my head.
Strangely, though it invokes 
strong feelings, this poem’s
reality
is not

Cinder Block

Etched out the corner 
Sharpened to a blunt 
Crumbling facade
Come runnin,
Won't you ?
Never could you hold this cold hand
Cause what you etched outta me
Is dissipated on some other concrete landing 
Outta me
And I can't repair my own faceless feelings
Only to smash undesired love to the ground 
Cause when you got it, I never wanted it.
You

Cinder Love

An ember sparked will softly grow,
Just as love will grow to the depths that one will never know.
I once was cinder,
Sparked by you.
My love inside grew and grew.
Flames timid at first, but began to grow,
Just as my love for you spread,
As quickly as new fallen snow.


So our love began,
 at the touch of dawn,
To welcoming

Cinder Boy

An ember sparkled will softly grow,
and fed by fuel,will grow and grow.
I once was cinder,sparkled by you,
first timid...till the flames then grew.


And so our start was touch of dawn,
with amber hue,for I was drawn 
to eyes so welcoming and warm
I never guessed you'd do me harm.

Like morning glory,love in June
the rapture of mid-afternoon,
romance of which

Cinder Morn

The clouds hanging low 
muffled the maple-covered mountain.
Fog from the saturated earth
weakly, wet the newborn breeze.
Mist maintained the rainy connection
between earth and eternity.
A gray day lay upon 
the weary weakened eye of morning.
Soon the breeze blossomed to wind
wiping the cinders from the sun.

I Am a Cinder

Passions heat turns blaze 
A blue white intensity 
Close my eyes to it 
and ride the heat waves higher 
to the point I am a cinder

Cinder Girl

An ember sparked will softly glow,
and fed by fuel, will grow and grow.
I once was cinder, sparked by you,
first timid. . . till the flames then grew.

And so our start was touch of dawn,
with amber hue, for I was drawn
to eyes so welcoming and warm
I never guessed you’d do me harm.

Like morning glory, love in

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