I sat alone in a darkened room.
The fireplace warmed me to the core.
I gazed with tired eyes into the fire,
And was shocked at what I saw.
The flames first licked hungrily
At the large oaken logs.
Now shimmering hunters,
Following a pack of dogs.
Caught in an eternal chase,
They bounded across the wood.
Their prey, a fleeing deer,
Running as fast as it could.
Then the fires died down.
And shot back up to form,
A set of angry clouds,
Rolling in a storm.
A blink and the scene changed
Back into a calm glade.
A merry fawn with flute
Dancing as it played.
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes.
I looked back in the flame.
No beasts, no storm, no music.
Only fire and embers remain.
i like this poem as i was reading it i had a visaul image in my head nice piece : D
nice piece, imagination drifting with the flames, keep writing your good.10 from Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Almost a psychodelic dream - Wonderful!