R. K. Hart
Evening Fire Courage
In the evening of our lives when we sit by the hearth,
When we are within most of life’s aftermath.
As the glow of burning fiery logs play in your hair,
It is here I say those things only lovers dare.
Things that still make an old man’s face redden,
Stealing a kiss against a young man’s body leaden.
Only to gain courage from where there was desert,
Courage from the courage less making the convert.
Perspiring hands may have slipped around your waist,
Feeling so belonging, yet against refusal braced,
A finger maps your face touching your lips,
Watching, as eyes close down like a solar eclipse.
Fireside evenings jar memories from years long past,
They lay under us like a beautiful tapestry wide and vast.
Memories are our lives marbled carved pillars,
You are like a Grecian queen well befitting a Grecian villa.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Evening Fire Courage by R. K. Hart )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
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