As I small child I was always fascinated by the images and shapes that I could see in my grandmother's fireplace.


Flaming Heck

Worn out working-class kid
Sees a fiery, fabulous mass
Within the withering flames,
In the blink of an eyelid
His little heart sings as
Crackling knights and dames
Entwine, lick and cavort
In the flickering fire's court,
And red-hot caves appear,
Dripping pools of languid light,
Telling him soothing sleep is near
In the enticing embers of the night.



Chris Fernie, 2006







Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 570 times
Written on 2006-10-29 at 15:39

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Rob Graber
This reminds me of a cartoon I saw many years ago> Two prehistoric humans ("cavemen" if you will) are watchi a little kid staring into the campfire. One says to the other, "Huh. When I was a kid, we had to use our imaginations!" Near write; I like especially the iambic-pentametric close.
2006-10-29


David Hazell
Fucking Hell! Fantastic imagry.
2006-10-29


Esti D-G The PoetBay support member heart!
enough alliteration already aaron!

luv esti
2006-10-29