Dry logs redden and snap;
The fire is soon impressive.
The wolf moon takes better shape
As night begins to settle in.
I watch the conflagration spike;
A spark flies off, then others
Like the universe had coaxed them
To become one of the stars.
Categories:
logs, fire, night, winter,
Form: Rhyme
Logs
The logs on the
west side of
the house can
turn gas
into
liquid.
Categories:
logs, humor,
Form: Free verse
A seagull and anhinga sit
On logs next to the pier,
Perhaps preparing for a meal,
For fish are likely here.
They do a little grooming, but
They mostly seem to sit,
Though the anhinga opens up
His mouth a little bit.
As far as the anhinga goes,
I think that’s what it is.
My Google research said so;
I am not a birding whiz.
The seagull just flapped up and flew
And left his friend behind,
Although it doesn’t seem that the
Anhinga seems to mind.
It’s lovely sitting by the water,
Which a barge just churned
And, by the way, that seagull,
Just this minute, has returned.
Categories:
logs, bird, river,
Form: Rhyme
Like burnt-out logs on ice-cold firedogs nudge,
emotions crumble at tentative touch.
In Iambic Pentameter: Stressed syllables are in bold.
Categories:
logs, emotions, simile,
Form: Heroic Couplet
The sunroom in the afternoon
I’m on the couch; Missy, the floor.
We both are right competitive
when working on the loudest snore.
Poor Frances has her headphones on;
it’s that or likely lose her mind.
Or so she says, but when I woke,
I heard her sawing logs in kind.
Categories:
logs, sleep,
Form: Rhyme
They piled a heap of logs
fire they light and run away
cats and dogs come from sky
the work well done collapses
Things done in haste out of hate
make plotters foolish gamblers
when the world laughs and giggles
cleaning powder they spray
The logs fate piles on gamblers
the burning oil it adds in dark
the cries of the innocent offended
ignite revenge flames that burn souls
When these things happen, no cry
get your guitar and play nice melodies
Categories:
logs, allegory, fate, relationship,
Form: Sonnet
Yule log traditions
It used to be burned away
Making Christmas warmth.
Today it is different;
Yule log gingerbread and cheese.
t
Categories:
logs, christmas, holiday, poems, poetry,
Form: Tanka
Yule Logs.
The wood delivery came this warm, sunny afternoon.
The wood man wanted cash; he dislikes checks I do not
blame him, why should he pay tax when the likes of
Starbuck pay almost none. I usually drink coffee at
the local café, but tried Starbuck´s once, coffee with milk
wasn´t enough, they kept talking about “latte” No, just
coffee with milk…please. A friend of mine, who has gone
to school, came over and sorted it out; what I got was
foamy and didn´t taste like coffee. I don´t think our wood
man drinks coffee there was faint smell of wine about him,
- it was after lunch-, police officers leave us alone here in
the deep, dark valleys of upland of Algarve.
Categories:
logs, dedication, happiness,
Form: Blank verse
warm orange fed fresh logs
soft shimmer silver tinsel...
merry christmas dear
Categories:
logs, holiday, love
Form: Haiku