Fire,
Burning with a passion like the sun.
Once you lit the match, you knew the fire had begun.
Blazing, rising, and flowing over the wood like a burning river,
A warmth and burden giver.
The blistering heat and sizzling meat,
Draws on the unsuspecting nose.
The sugars and spice, smell so nice
In the pot on the wood burning stove.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem