18 August 2012
Flickering flames, shining bright, The heat a comfort in the cold air, A small sanctum in the dark nights, I hope you'll meet me there
Branches crack, and are changed to ash, Toes curl in the dust at my feet, I hug myself, to still my fears Face red from the heat
My thoughts are far, from where I sit, Stolen to a distant land, A place where you are by my side, My fingers in your hand
The hours pass, my fire dims, But a hope I still clutch to, That you will meet me as we planned, I'll wait all night for you
Then in the early hours of the morn, When my fire's died to coals, I'll roll up my bed, take a calm breath, Then continue on my road
©
Sitting by the Fire • Opuss № I