Best Firesides Poems

Upon a grassy hill, so long ago,
there stood a lovely 'castle', tall and white;
was built in eighteen eighty-six, aglow
with cozy rooms and firesides burning bright. 
So charming was the winding stairs that flared
'neath grand cathedral ceiling's chandelier.
Outdoors, a rolling lawn and gardens shared
a rippling stony...

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Not Ready Yet

Give me just one more day of Christmas jubilee
 Not ready to let go of Christmas, yet
Or stop gathering flecks of stardust
 Scattered from the Heavens
Still reveling in the sweet aroma of frankincense
 Or bovine straw
  Lingering on evening's breath
To walk by...

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Autumn
Chilled breezes blow.
Warm firesides glow.

Pumpkins
Orange and round
Litter the ground.

Skies
Hold November rains.
Soak gentle plains.

Maple Trees
Dress in vermillion.
It’s autumn’s cotillion.

Children 
Wear shiny costumes.
Huge harvest moons.

Turkeys
Many to die.
Hear them cry.

11/11/18

Six-Word Couplet Series Encore
Sponsored by: Mark Toney...

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We've Been Alone Too Long

Different roads we’ve traveled down
To reach our destiny.
Many lonesome highways
Brought you here to me.

I see you now as in the dreams
I had those nights alone
When the warmth of many firesides
Chased the chill from tired bones.

We wandered far down unknown roads
Not knowing...

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Green as emerald lays the soft soft grass;
Dotted slightly with red, blue and yellow.
Lay down I shall, while watching the world
In my golden sunfilled meadow.

Wind whistles softly through the air,
Scarlet petals dance on the breeze;
The leaves russel, while the branches crack,
And sweet chirping fills...

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Cognac & Brandy recollections,
   sublime warmth 'tween
        smoky exhaled vapors,
wisps of  Madagascar aromatics 
       & blazes of Autumn firesides
    amidst a French Château fantasy,
  dipped...

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Spirit of the ancient isles,
Of Erin and of Albion,
I call to thee,
Please come to us,
Ancient spirit come to me,
I call to thee,
In moorland wind,
And highland glen,
In summer meadow,
By Greenwood tree,
I recall bluebells in spring,
Autumn rains in Irish hills,
Long winter nights by firesides,
The places where the...

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(THIS IS THE SECOND POEM DEDICATED TO THE US PRESIDENT IN HIS QUEST FOR A SECOND TERM) 

Bit and bit together become whole,
And coin and coin fills the treasure.
Right and wrong never agree;
And little and little satisfies the measure!
Careless mischief is a dangerous thing.
Kenyans do...

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When winter comes it brings a special charm
With holidays and decorated trees
With guests and firesides to keep us warm
Despite the icy chill of winter's freeze
That torments us with plummeting degrees
And snow to depths that's well above our knees

But silver frosting’s on the window pane
The sentimental...

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In the wintry countryside, January bares her soul and lets little buds grow,
Under drifts of pure white snow, hedge high frost hardened, there is movement,
Shoots of brave winter flowers wake, and they in turn wake our summer flowers,
Then the rarest of all our flowers the...

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In a small hamlet people were outside their dwellings staring up at a heavy black sky,
Wind lashed the trees and front doors a big storm was about to happen and very soon,
Small ice flakes whipped up in the wind stinging eyes I had a big...

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Winter bends low to blow gusty breaths, cold,
out of his northern lair beyond the warm
of summer’s enfolding. Capricious, bold
he plans his escapades of icy storm.
Clutching for a covering, nature gasps,
trembling in a landscape grown terrible;
ice-brittle moisture ricochets and rasps
on soft skin with rough strokes unbearable.
Firesides...

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In the wintry countryside, January bares her soul and lets little buds grow,
Under drifts of pure white snow, hedge high frost hardened, there is movement,
Shoots of brave winter flowers wake, and they in turn wake our summer flowers,
Then the rarest of all our flowers the...

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Some men keep real cool at gunpoint 
Having been swimming in the company of the military,
The nozzles of guns surveying in moments solitary:
Witnesses to soldiers dipping their fingers in wallets
For the purchase of that spitting out the bullets.

Some men keep grinning at gunpoint,
Because at them...

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Summertime is finally fleeting
and oddly, though, I am not sad.
Yes, the fields will soon be emptied
of pastel-colored flowers and buzzing bees
and wading knee-deep in tall, wild grass
as the sun takes its time in setting,
late into the warm-breeze nights
that cause one to linger 
and gaze up into...

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