Poems from Elle's perspective

Comfort's Flicker

Childhood spent around the hearth,
watching a gentle flicker,
revelling in a soothing warmth.
Comfortable armchairs flank the brick surrounds,
and Queen nestles just a little too close,
sparks singe her snow white fur.

Guy Fawkes, and the guy is burning,
stuffed with hay and dressed in Dad's hand-me-downs.
Feral children gleefully frolic
in a fever of excitement,
waiting for brilliant colours to explode across the heavens
and the boom of gunpowder to echo among the hills.

Mum lights the wick of one fat golden candle,
and Sue lights another.
Mother of the bride,
mother of the groom.
Steve and I combine the flickering lights
and two become one.

Creative crafts with kids,
making scented candles.
Cinnamon and apple,
Madagascar spice,
and a wonderfully exotic
'Dragon's Blood' scent.
Lovely fragrances
waft from room to room.


Free verse. Written 19 September 2015.