Fire

fire

The heat of the fire tickles at my skin
And the flame of the fire flickers in the cool wind
The colorful dance of red, orange, and blue
Makes me happy to sit here cuddled up with you

My hair blows around me and I tuck it away
As the setting of the sun marks the end of the day
The birds go to sleep and the bats dance ballet
And I lean in to hear the sweet nothings you say

The faint smell of smoke teases at my nose
And the rough wooden bench pulls at my clothes
The logs hiss in melody with the crickets of the night
And I’m glad to hold you snug in the firelight

The children laugh as they burn marshmallows for fun
And it feels like the fire burns like the sun
The fireflies dance in the air with the stars
Nowhere could be better than where we are

Like generations before stories are told under the sky
Of the tales in the years that have passed us by
Until the flames are reduced to embers of red
When we finally go inside and go to bed


 

For some reason, fire seems to be the easiest thing in the world to describe. Easier than love or sunlight or the cold. I have no idea why, but when I concentrate I can almost smell the smoke and hear the crackling of the logs, no matter where I am. I wrote this poem a while back and remembered it when I was working to describe something while writing.

As writers, it’s our job to make the reader feel like they’re there. Do you have a poem or short passage that utilizes at least four senses to describe the surroundings?

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