It's amazing what went up that lum*,
that long and narrow flue
Aglow with spitting cloud and sparks -
those secrets I told you
A hearth of warmth and visions,
we catch the flickers' dance
From those scrunched, poetic papers,
leading us into romance.
Burning wood and all that rubbish,
that gave out the worst of smells
Smelt to us of rose and cinnamon
as we downed some sweet Moselle
How those flames induced our feelings,
tears that dripped as profiles glowed
What had happened to the promises
those flickers could decode?
Then you started throwing papers,
little pictures on the embers
Curling inwards from the edges,
cinders left as it remembers
Will you let her sit on my rug
as you comb her shampooed hair?
Gaze into the pit of memories
with deep illgotten flare
I'll never need a fireside
to remind me I'm alone
No need to burn to go through Hell
when you're in a smokeless zone.
*The Scottish vernacular of 'chimney'.
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