Friday, 12 June 2015

Poem for Friday: The Bonfire

by James Beattie



Midsummer bonfire (source: Wikipedia)


It begins as heat, locked
Away in the very bond of being.
Potential, naked to the eye
Yet daunting in its nature.
Stored in the fuel,
Conceived in chemicals.

With kindling it grows,
Nurtured yet vulnerable.
Both impossible to create
But unstoppable once freed.
It consumes its surroundings,
Taking all that is fed to it.

Developed it emits energy,
Radiating its evolutionary glory.
Accelerating and accentuating
As it effects become known.
Ever growing stronger in
The haze of its best existence.

Eternal in the ideal world,
Self-sustained in the right conditions.
However, this fire is not so.
Its realities left to fester
As bright flame becomes forgotten ember.

Only the ash and smoke remain.
Flecks of grey floating to the world beyond.
Filling lungs with  pungent stench.




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