Long Fireplace Poems
Long Fireplace Poems. Below are the most popular long Fireplace by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fireplace poems by poem length and keyword.
upon the Rase a troublesome crone
who meddled in the Rasen folk
for she a witch!
a witch! their slant and well
she laid upon a cow a cursied blight
a cursied spell
and lo would not this neighbour’s cow
go to the milking parlour so
this neighbour’s daughter fraught and fair
to seek a wise man, she that hour
left in haste to hear of words
and met with him though quite by chance
for he appeared to her when needed
invited in somewhat expected
and knew did he of her unrest
as heating in the fireplace a red hot poker
readying
and stoked, enflamed the fire roared
and from by the Rase the witch was heard
to scream and cry
you see now in her weakened state
another troubled Rasener
took heed upon the lowered crone
and struck her hand with a blade had he
and brought to her all of her eves
that drew the blood of taintedness
and scream once more
then again made three
no more trouble will she cause
said the wiseman confidently
and the witch skulked away
her powers lost
made free were then the Rasen folk
and the cow went in to give them milk
“Cats teach us how to enjoy life. They savor every moment, from
the warm sun on their backs to the joy of a well-played pounce.”
– Anonymous
Snow stopped rubbing against my leg to get attention
when he became curious about Christmas tree lights
tangled all over the floor to the point of contention.
I saw him begin nibbling the bulbs, taking little bites,
so I shooed him away in a moment of apprehension,
afraid that he might break one. Oh, the hypertension!
That lasted all of thirty seconds, and Snow was back,
crouched in hunt mode, his eyes locked on a string.
I saw him tense, creeping closer, ready for the attack.
He chattered and launched himself like a coiled spring,
landing in strings and ran as if he was on a racetrack.
I reached for my camera. It was moment for my Kodak!
Instead of being frightened, he was perfectly content
to walk around, wrapped in lights from head to toe,
so, I let him prance like that for a while without dissent.
But when I tried to take them off, I got a hiss from Snow
letting me know that giving them up was not his intent.
It became a problem that I had to cleverly circumvent.
I thought that turning on the lights I'd already strung
might change his mind and fill Snow with a bit of fright
so, I busied myself with ornaments and stockings hung,
then found him cozied up beneath the tree. What a sight!
He was licking each brightly colored globe with his tongue.
That string still tightly wound around him, they were flung.
I didn't have the heart to take away his brand new toy.
While soothing him with my voice, I plugged him in,
standing by in case he was scared, but not my lil' boy.
Here's the photo and I swear, Snow is wearing a grin.
He's asleep before the hearth, on a pillow of corduroy.
A memory to treasure on this Christmas filled with joy.
When I placed a golden star atop my Christmas tree
I heard the faint mewing from beside the fireplace.
Snow's big blue eyes were open wide as if in plea.
I just couldn't stand the sad look upon my kitty's face
and put a star on his head, then got a holder for a battery
so his lights could move with him. Now, he's purring at me.
bring me around his blazing fireplace
and I'll tell you leprechaun stories
safe from their torment outside
bring me to the train platform
and I'll grip grandfather's hand tightly
as we turn and wave goodbye
bring me the old shoes grandfather wore
and I'll dream the steps he took, to reach my side
bring me his tiny gold-rimmed glass, filled with sherry
and I'll toast grandmother's birthday, 75 years ago
bring me his elegant blue suit
and I'll look through a 6 year old boys eyes
his final resting place
In honor of William J. Bumford
My Grandpa
1893-1962
© All Rights Reserved
she had put a band on her wrist
in case she got lost on the journey
‘missing me but don’t return to sender’
no name or address just a simple message
a foresworn identity label of lost track
her abandoned reality checked out
dumped but not stranded she vacated
the shell of a wreck that left her misplaced
had surrendered to storms high and dry
she would have to relinquish misgivings
abjure past convictions and trespass
into the wilderness of broken repair
disavow compass needle and star chart
drift from transgressions into unknowable
recovery of courage in a wide open sea
with no emergency flares she capitulated to
forces beyond her control and shredded
the life buoy of sunken dreams and despair
flood gates were open as she shed one last tear
a carcass bobbing in wild water and white rapids
drift wood cutting deep inside her final remains
she was scared as everyone had left her side
‘too much chaos and dysfunction’ they said
‘she’ll destroy you while spiraling down’
a fool’s ship in quarantine flying a yellow flag
of black death and purulent contamination
a hobgoblin’s delight but perilous and vile
she felt disowned and homeless cast aside
rejected and discarded with no one to blame
other than her own miserable deception
after years of rip tides and dangerous currents
she crashed on breakwater emotions and pain
overcame the sea wall and held on to the shore
a disused fisherman’ cottage offered her shelter
the fireplace warmed her bones and contempt
thawed her mind and rekindled a weary soul
a glance in the mirror of hope showed her mercy
and revealed what an epic path she had taken
blissful abandon and a band on scarred joint
14th June 2020
I threw away the negatives
But couldn’t bear to part
With the photos of such happy times
They’re tugging at my heart.
Museum trips and boat rides,
Pulling sleds or on the beach,
Birthday candles glowing on a cake,
Those days all out of reach.
A fire in the fireplace,
The family gathered ‘round,
Performances at camp and school,
The beaming faces found.
All dressed up for the holidays
Or set for trick or treat,
The younger version of ourselves
We wish that we could meet.
I loved the reminiscing
But when tucking them away,
It made me sad that they’ll be tossed
On a not too distant day.
Her eyes were as blue as the ocean,?
Those eyes that always seemed to take my breath away.?
Those hands I’d die to touch—
?All the butterflies, with their flips and flaps,?Couldn’t stop the room from feeling like a fireplace;?In fact, I think they helped.
But these words—?
These words are where it ended,?
The lines that we crossed and blurred?
Between what was real and fake.?
You said, “Well, figuratively speaking,?
It’s just my language.”
But the words that you speak—
?I mean,?
You say one thing, but
you mean a whole other.?
It’s not all cute and fluffy;
it’s pouring down rain,?
And I didn’t bring an umbrella.
?But you’re just going to say,?
“Well, figuratively speaking,?
It’s just my language.”
So I’ll sit back, and I’ll listen,?
And I’ll try to comprehend?
The things that don’t sound
like what they mean,?
And the exaggerations beyond human comprehension.?
Because at the end of the day,?
After the games that
you’ve played,?
All the mistakes that I’ve made
?Well,?
If we’re speaking figuratively,?
It’s just our language.
Drop after drop
my calm burns by the cold fireplace
like the rain on the glass, reminding
me of a taping dance.
Patience is the bastard son of virtue
running in short supply.
The wind is adding to the window's torment,
impatiently watching my sorrows
etched on my forehead.
I go out, drenching my haunting fears
adding to my quarantine torment.
Can't leave the house cause I have
a compromised immune system unallied
with my self-restraint.
Sky's clear now, water cleaner, the
bitter chill's definitely over.
Not wearing your mask, that's alright
we 'll fix you with something light-colored
to wear, good now lay your head back
and let me be clear, your fool's act
has cost you your life and now we're in the air.
Wake me up when September ends
And autumn’s breath chills white wind
Closing denim door on Summer’s heat
With delightful crisp air of fall breeze
I had a summer I wish to forget
The pain of lost love and red regret
It was a fling that began with spring
I believe in love but love is a dream
So another holiday I’ll spend with me
Not something I hate until winter’s freeze
But that’s welcoming seasons of change
Divorcing summer and heat stroked brain
Putting a log in brick fireplace so warm
And dust off novels to read that charm
Not giving up on love that’s a thrill
But taking time to love me I feel
So this winter I want silver solitude
I’ll write as therapy find my teal truth
Listen to my mahogany favorite tunes
Dancing alone at home in my birthday suit
The parlor exemplified family
it was always decked out in tradition.
And held a spectacular Christmas tree
like a post card...or Rockwell rendition.
A lit fireplace flaunting boughs of holly
was decked in elegance...by mirrored glass.
And a chandelier clung to the ceiling
dangling mistletoe from curls of brass.
A fond memory now frozen in time
was framed by a rug from a master’s loom.
And candles glittered with festive sparkle
as poinsettias brought life...to the room.
The magic of the holidays held sway
beckoning you to this inviting place.
And tinsel and lights enhanced its grandeur
painting...a time proven picture of grace.
(Quatrain)
So apparent, in my quaint poems.
MEN have a built in big fireplace.
It flickers, " Welcome Home!"
Assuredly, though, not all men like
my poet have trace!
Several women are free to think.
But I am aware of my sisters trying
to do me in?
Yet, those loving to express their
thanks in ink.
I do not get destruction blessed with
their love, they do me in!
I only compete against me.
Never trying to win "your" trophy.
A harsh, harsh taskmaster to myself,
I be.
Poetry is not “sometimes” nor a comic
strip to me.
A thank you to the women who have
left their feelings and thoughts.
I love you and know frienship cannot be
bought!
A special thank you to Tom Cunnigham.
Who has backed me for over two years?
Plus that birthday blog,
What a considerate man!
**Also, a bouquet of Roses to Darlene
for commenting daily as much as Tom!
Hugs, poetess!**
Plus, all your emails!
Love,
Pangie
10/22/2021