Fire Poem

This is my fire poem,
When it's cold outside,
Rainin' or snowin' ,
The thought that warms,
And keeps me goin',
Is an open hearth,
With a fire glowin',

Flickering flames lick,
Whilst hot chocolate is flowin',
And only if you strain your ear,
Can you hear the wind, a blowin'
Over the crackles and roar,
Of the fire growin',
And the chatter of my Mum,
As she's sat there sewin',

Cosy and warm,
Is my Fire Poem,
But draw in near,
For the second showing,

Wild and ravenous,
Is the forest fire,
Consuming all,
Like all consuming desire,
Inevitable, unstoppable,
Hotter and higher,
Like the tide of the sea,
but fiercer, and drier,

It cuts you off and surrounds,
Like some scalding barbed wire,
Like a hellfire preacher.
In priestly attire,
Won't quit catching,
Till it's you it acquires,
Roaring it leaps from branch to branch,
Like it is building a choir,

To sing it's catching, tagging song,
Tag, you're it,
Now Poof,
You're gone.

Wild and ravenous,
Is my Poem of fire,
But even wildfire,
Can be a purifier,

It cleans out the old,
As it blazes through town,
It might bring buildings
Crumbling down,
But go out into the street,
In 'Jama's or gown,
In a couple of months,
Listen for the sound,
Of the rebuilding,
Of what is coming round,

The ashes it gives,
From ashes to rise
The hopeful phoenix,
Takes to scraping the skies.
Newness can come,
From the fire that flies,
Through the town,
And now new buildings rise,


Fire can be dangerous,
Fire can be kind,
Fire is to be,
Respected, mind.

Fire is a predator,
Fire is a friend,
Fire is a curious,
And peculiar blend.

Fire will serve you well,
If you remember it is hot, like hell,

But my favourite fire,
Is when it is rainin' or snowin'
And inside my house,
There is a fire glowin'
And there the crumpets,
 And hot chocolate's flowin'

There you are, Naomi,
A few verses for showin'
This is the end,
Of my Fire poem.