The Fire That Burns Poem by Gerry Legister

Yet, as each day goes by,
it's hard to watch them go without you nearby,
but I promise to keep your spirit going and flying high,
and when I sprint into the clear sky,
I guess before I die, leaving this side
I want to understand those feelings inside.
I don't think my family would understand
the fire that burns in that distant land
with rosy fingers of another frosty morning
Snowflakes are beautiful and adoring

Now loon in the English countryside
Where shadows paint a portrait
And I am alone in the room
Listening to a warbling tune