Around the Fire in Honesdale
Marshmallows a-roasting
our cold bums a-toasting,
our cold bums a-toasting,
The fireplace
lit up the night.
Our drums a-thrumming
The tunes a-humming,
Our rhythm lit up the night.
The ganstas a-snapping
with David a-rapping,
Our poetry lit up the night.
The coals a-glowing
and poems a-flowing,
our fun
times lit up the night.
Thank you, Julie! What a lovely poem. You bring back those images of a family of poets at work and play in a perfect setting. Thank you so much. David
ReplyDeleteWonder-filled, those nights, Julie. You've captured them perfectly!
ReplyDeleteI love this, Julie. I especially smiled at the "cold bums". I remember that well! Thanks very much for this.
ReplyDeleteKaren
Love the rhythm in the poem...matched the night perfectly. :-)
ReplyDelete