Fire On Ice Poem by Sara Militello

Fire on Ice

My senses quiver at who wallow in hopeless despair
dishing lame excuses with nary a hint
their despair won't rouse or inspire
but quickly any dream expire:

Even lying next to fire
they sigh themselves away!
My soul is afire with consenting desire
that smolders like ice afire.

Yet 'ere each night is through
it's yet another tale of woe
or some such social aloe
the downtrodden cannot conceive.

Where is the romance for joy to show
that place where dreams are born?
If only there lingered a glint of a clue
to why for so many dreams don't come true...

I grow weary of the need to wait
to linger and to check my gait
trying to curtail a growing repine
that so few in romantic repartee incline.

January 20,1992