The Fireplace

As the seasons change,
From winter to spring,
New tales are told,
More stories to bring.

Through summer
The fireplace has no uses at all,
But as the cold air draws near,
The ash soon will fall.

This fireplace lies in a house, not a home.
The ghost, she will come.
In the night start to roam.

The old man who lives there,
His heart old and worn.
Knows not of his spirit
Who fades out each morn.

The fireplace is alight,
Though no one's around.
She will play her tricks cautiously,
Taunts without a sound.

by vera©