Best Fireplace Poems

Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
...

In Baltimore there lived a boy.
He wasn't anybody's joy.
Although his name was Jabez Dawes,
His character was full of flaws. In school he never led his classes,
...

Gone are the days
when you could walk on water.
When you could walk.
...

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
...

Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,
I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther -- and we shall see."
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
...

Should I get married? Should I be Good?
Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustaus hood?
...

SURELY among a rich man s flowering lawns,
Amid the rustle of his planted hills,
Life overflows without ambitious pains;
And rains down life until the basin spills,
...

Young Croesus went to pay his call
On Colonel Sawbones, Caxton Hall:
And, though his wound was healed and mended,
He hoped he’d get his leave extended.
...

Part One


As night fell and the light glittered in the great house, the servants stood at the massive door awaiting the coming of the guests; and upon their velvet garments shown golden buttons.
...

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,
...

Snowflakes are falling like a gift of white.
The classic landscape burns incessant, bright.
Old panes picture, literally, scores of frost.
No single note of music has been lost.
...

To the Memory of the Household It Describes
This Poem is Dedicated by the Author:

"As the Spirits of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits,which be Angels of Light, are augmented not only by the Divine lightof the Sun, but also by our common Wood Fire: and as the CelestialFire drives away dark spirits, so also this our Fire of Wood doth thesame." -- Cor. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy,
...

Away from everyday chaos
Where time flew in a blur
From mundane endeavours
Caging our souls
...

THE long small room that showed willows in the west
Narrowed up to the end the fireplace filled,
Although not wide. I liked it. No one guessed
What need or accident made them so build.
...

Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
Been witness for so long of an invasion
That made of a gay friend whom we had known
...

THE air is dark, the sky is gray,
The misty shadows come and go,
And here within my dusky room
...

Having forsaken all paths open to me
I come to you
Always.
And when for a while I am with you
...

Here,
in the room of my life
the objects keep changing.
Ashtrays to cry into,
...

A Story of Christmas Eve.



...

Christmas is here, Jesus to the world brought peace
Everyone is rested as kids spend time with family
Kitchens are ablaze, wives creating good ol’ soul-food
Leslie and Destra, await their turn, under the mistletoe
...

I WANDER all night in my vision,
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and
stopping,
...

Grey pigeon flutters on ledge of concrete.
Wonder, how it survives on urban streets.
Seen them flock in city squares as folks throw seeds.
Unlike hawks don’t swoop down and snatch with greed.
...

Evening casts early shadows in December.
As dusk falls heart is filled with longing,
I have an appointment, I suddenly remember…
Quickly I put on my coat and stockings.
...

are we not just
bouncing around in a great rubber inferno
occasionally colliding with one another
until one of us breaks?
...

They are mentioned in the Rig-Veda and in Soma Mandala,
Which is a praise with some energizing qualities,
An old ritual of drink and a treatment for asthma.
Moreover, we find these sacrifices in the Persian cultures.
...

I am 32 years old
and finally I look my age, if not more.
...

My Uncle sleeps
with pursed lips

as if kissed
...

It’s spring in 1827, Beethoven
hoists his death-mask and sails off.

The grindstones are turning in Europe’s windmills.
...

Such are the ways of heart
It keeps a lot hidden
yet yearns for the forbidden.
...

In a cool winter evening
Sitting by the fireplace
Looking at the rainy shower
My heart dampened
...

Woods in the fireplace
I watch the flickering flames
Like great memories
Flooding back my mind and heart
...

Way back in the mountain and beyond bread creek
Where muscadines hang from the hardwood trees
The coyotes howl all through the night
And backbones tingle when the catamount cries.
...

After the non-committal, evasive, meeting with Tersteeg
And his disappointing, discouraging comments,
Vincent had one more hope in Anton Mauve.
Anton was a relative from his mother's side,
...

[Supposed to be chanted to some rude instrument at a modern fireplace]


Chant we the story now
...

I went to my friend's abode
A proud and mighty mansion
It got tons and tons of gold
Hanging in the chandeliers
...

Le bras sur un marteau gigantesque, effrayant
D'ivresse et de grandeur, le front large, riant
Comme un clairon d'airain, avec toute sa bouche,
...

Tristram. Is she not come? The messenger was sure—
Prop me upon the pillows once again—
...

PRELUDE
ALONG the roadside, like the flowers of gold
That tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,
Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,
...

An ecru jar candle burns ~
Vanilla fragrance fills the room
The flame flickers brightly
Banishing an oppressive gloom.
...

NOW had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer,
And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters.
...

Mrs Merryweather put coal on the fire,
while outside through the frosted windows
the snow was beginning to fall.
Christmas was only days away,
...

O well is thee! King Numa,
Within thy secret cave,
Where thy bones are ever moistened
By sad Egeria’s wave;
...

The shiv'ring piano, foaming at the mouth,
Will wrench you by its ravings, discompose you.
'My darling,' you will murmur. 'No!' I'll shout.
...

I had fed the fire and stirred it, till the sparkles in delight
Snapped their saucy little fingers at the chill December night;
...

It was Christmas Eve on a Friday
The shops was full of cheer,
With tinsel in the windows,
...

The dreamy night
Rain drops down the window
By the fireplace
On a green striped sheet
...

A Frenchman and an Englishman
Resolved to fight a duel,
And hit upon a savage plan,
Because their hate was cruel.
...

Beautiful brown mixed with black and white
Eyes that sparkled with the call of going out into nature
Faithful and loyal, true friendship
...

When the caravans of wool-teams climbed the ranges from the West,
On a spur among the mountains stood `The Bullock-drivers' Rest';
It was built of bark and saplings, and was rather rough inside,
...

I do not care how much they would
give to buy me if they could.
I am poor and often starving,
desperately, slowly carving
...

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
...

God makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fur 'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.
...

The fireplace
was eager
to put a fullstop,
in the sentence
...

August First: it was a year ago
we drove down from St.-Guilhem-le-Désert
to open the house in St. Guiraud
...

After death visited,
they opened the house
as a museum
...

The old house stood as sturdy as ever
even as the mangled jade ivy clung and grasped
as it had for decades, but she would never be killed.
It’s not in her make-up.
...

On a fine morning, she died

-like in the chick flicks, and ‘don't-know-how-to-end-it' romance novels.
...

I'm going to purchase the finest bottle of wine
then prepare a gourmet dinner
have the table elegantly set
with two candles in the center,
...

She’s native, naked, she’s native and naked
She takes me down and wipes my body
She holds me in her arms and warms my heart
...

I plan to start a 'showcase' on my PoemHunter site,
which will NOT be a contest; no need for a fight,
but instead a place where once a month I shall post..
a poem of your choosing, which you would like read most.
...

While crossing the Snoqualmie River
on foot near frosty Holtershausen,
a settlement of faithful Amish
was milking cows in drafty barns.
...

Whoosh! went the candle
Slam! went the door!

Suddenly I had the feeling
...

Throw out your watch, throw away...
Start feeding a sparrow on a palm
Go for sleeping closely fireplace
Do not let the knocks frighten to you
...

A drama with lyrical affection

The cold draft bursts into the house,
It freezes, winter bangs on the doors,
...

The clock strikes midnight
and the magic ends:
the fairy tale is over
and the truth offends.
...

Well, I woke up in the morning
There's frogs inside my socks
Your mama, she's a-hidin'
...

everywhere in the world there are motels
with empty parking lots
waiting for couples
temporarily in love
...

When I would be very old,
with wrinkles on my face and a
stick on my hand,
without all of my natural teeth,
...

I have sat the wily beast
rode in the darkest night
eaten from the trough
of death;
...

Fall Festival Poem: Written By Stephanie Mellisa Kievaughan in r-L
and: Punxsutawney in Second Life

you may need to get outside to find your happy place...
...

When the fire crosses
burning trees with its hands
and blows into them with its mouth
then water disappears
...

Hot Fair In Cold, Foggy Morning Wintry Madrigal
December 22, 2020
...

The music comes on with the lights,
the little opera of emptiness begins, the little
dance of no one there —
just the rooms exhibited
...

Shall we dance?
He tentatively asked
Love at first glance…
...

The perilous yellow sun follows with its slant eyes
masts of the shuddered grove steaming up to capsize
in the frozen straits of Epiphany. February has fewer
days than the other months; therefore, it's more cruel
...

I looked at the book.
'It will stand,' I thought.
Not a palace
built by a newspaper czar,
...

Those days were gone
When I was your flute
and you were the breath
Together we produced
...

doctor, doctor, where are you, it is time, abandoned spaceship
magic door, monster clowns, the tardis, let's speak French
parlez- vous francais, j'taime, embrasee- moi, mi amour! ! !
...

Ι do often remember those flames
crazing in playful cracking laugh,
to whistle, fizzle and quarrel,
in threatening talks with each other, complot
...

Very Soon,
Destiny will put you in the
Midst of a peaceful family,
But it will send me into the
...

I have carried water in buckets for many,

a bucket that leaked.
...

So, now for some information about my first SHOWCASE for PH poets:

Sorry, I've altered some things already, like the title of my lead-in poem, above. In anticipation of a great response [I sent notices to about 50 members so far from my inbox], I have added to my lead-in poem's title 'February,2015: section 'A' '.
...

(Eph.5: 20 / James 1: 17 / Matt.13: 10–15)


Dip Into A December Day
...

we make midnight a maquette of the year:
frostlight glinting off snow to solemnize
the vows we offer to ourselves in near
...

I saw the
dead bird on the sidewalk
his neck uncovered
and prehistoric
...

(written some years ago for my co-workers
inserting all first and last names)
...

come here, come here beloved one

moonlight seems too pale against thy face
...

Let there be every reason to believe in tomorrow,
let there be every hope in the justice that you seek
let there be light in this darkness of time
but let there be a silent prayer upon your lips for George.
...

Like old people waiting for G-d
We watch the colourful leaves
Fall from the branches
We, then, watch the birds at play
...

When the sun goes down
we shiver, it's cold!
Stop complaining, you look so old!
Inside, don a warm sweater.
...

To beat sultry summer day and seek the seclusion of another world
We friends once went after wood
Deliberating beforehand to stay a day or two with things wild
To explore the wood far and wide
...

In the house of many rooms
someone sleeps.
Someone can be anyone,
so the sleeper is you.
...

I march
Thru the snow,
Limbs frozen
Heart frozen
...

The scattering sage stands thin and tense
As though afraid of the barbed-wire fence;
A windmill purrs in the lazy breeze
...

In the languor of twilight
On the soft ground so close
The boughs were holding on
To the leaves with lament
...

A house does not make a home-
But the people who live within it...
People may bring trouble and strife
Or bring to a home the joy of life!
...

Unbeknown to us
He snapped a picture
A homey setting
Fireplace-centered
...

(“The New Yorker may think, as one of their staff explained to us, that their cover is a satirical lampoon of the caricature Senator Obama’s right wing critics have tried to create. But most readers will see it as tasteless and offensive. And we agree, ” Obama’s campaign spokesman Bill Burton said in a statement Sunday.)

Who’s actually behind this?
Is it leftists, Sandanista’s,
...

IN a little log house near the rim of the forest
With its windows of sunlight, its threshold of stone,
Lived Donald McDougall, the quaintest of Scotchmen,
And Janet his wife, in their shanty, alone:
...

The angel —
three years we waited for him, attention riveted,
closely scanning
the pines the shore the stars.
One with the blade of the plough or the ship's keel
...