Big thunder. Pelting, pounding rain.
I think again
of an old fire
leaping higher
as we crowded around it, all,
to sit or sprawl
in family
community.
Outside, both rain and thunder roared,
which we ignored.
That warm safety
floods back to me.
For Poets United's Midweek Motif: Fire
(The form is a minute poem, i.e. 60 syllables, which I found at Poetic Asides too late to use it in the competition there, but I wanted to try it anyway.)
May the memory always mean safety and warmth to you. I felt it, too, from this form transformed with your peaceful tone.
ReplyDeleteOh how lovely a memory - reminds me of sitting in my grandma's back room, both of us enjoying the thunder. Sigh.
ReplyDeletethe poem reveals the magic of warmth, unity and love....
ReplyDeleteYes, I love the form of this poem and of course the memory it engenders of that comfortable feeling of being inside in the warm cuddled with someone you love while the rain tips down outside.
ReplyDeleteAh yes.. one of the many comforts that fire has to provide to mankind is warmth and a feeling of safety. Such a beautifully emotive poem :D
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
Well I think you have written a winner regardless - i love the crisp sense of thought..as distilled as the finest rain shower and as welcoming as joining friends around a fire...(ps love the photo of you in the hat still ;)
ReplyDeleteLove the warm feeling of safety -- some memories are warming even in their recollection! An interesting form, Rosemary.
ReplyDeleteThe warmth of the family fire. Indeed so comforting.
ReplyDeletethe fire of the hearth, the warmth of family how lovely;
ReplyDeletehave a good Wednesday
much love...
This is lovely, Rosemary. I'll have to check out the form.
ReplyDeleteOutside, both rain and thunder roared,
ReplyDeletewhich we ignored.
Yes, it is good to filter off the irritants from affecting us and work ourselves to be better prepared for eventualities!
Hank
Old fires never die. They just tuck themselves away in our memories.
ReplyDeleteHoly Fire
Ideal family gives the sense of warmth...makes us feel warm and secured. And the spark never dies...:)
ReplyDeleteBeautifully penned, Rosemary!
This is wonderful - I like the idea of a minute poem. Forces action!
ReplyDeleteThis one is called a minute poem because it has 60 syllables. There is also the allegro, which has eight lines, and must be timed and written within a minute! I think that's more what you had in mind, :) Described here: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com.au/2011/09/word-with-laurie.html
DeleteFire like this can be so uniting...I love the longer and shorter lines...like the flames flickering. :)
ReplyDeleteCosy poem reflecting the firelight. L.
ReplyDeleteA lovely, comforting memory of safety and community. You used the form so nicely. (Though I'm no judge of form.) I liked this so much.
ReplyDeleteThe cozy place with parents hiding from the storm.
ReplyDeleteNo matter what happens "out there" we can always find comfort with family and a big blaze (even the memories are warming). Perfect for fall Rosemary
ReplyDeleteThanks, Leslie. Spring here Down Under, but still cool and wet enough some days to spark (!) such recollections.
DeleteI really felt the warmth and safety of that fire in your lines ~ great work!
ReplyDeleteGood to feel that warmth of fire Rosemary ~
ReplyDeleteGrace
Rosemary,
ReplyDeleteWe both attributed our thoughts of fire, to a memorable gathering in the light of a warming fireside. Love the flickering and the glows!!
Eileen
What a wonderful image, Rosemary, harking back to primal times where cavepeople huddled together around the fire and felt, warm, safe and comfortable...
ReplyDelete