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There be a storm come call'n.

The kindle worked

its charm on the coal

tempting its soul

to unite in flame.

Outside shrieked

the wind and rain

calling my name,

but the windows and doors

were closed

and worried eyes counselled me to stay.

Thinking of older, darker days,

"Cast ye back to the depths from whence ye came."

A fist shaking in mocking scorn

at the storm.

The rain continued on

for the rest of the day

as the fire danced

and fell in love

with its flames

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Written by
grumpythumb
Published
Mar 21, 2018
Lines·Words
19·83
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