Comments about Joseph Blitch
Old Fire, New Flame
The fires flames had now burnt low,
The embers began to lose their glow,
Slightly warm ever-growing cold.
Soot through out the chimney old,
Smoke upward could hardly flow.
As after fuel no one choose to go.
Even with the sun shinning so bright,
Frost atop the roof remained white.
Laid to rest good use of minds eye.