Posted in Luc-Bat

Camping Heat

The last glowing ember
will make me remember the spark.
It was more than a lark
we enjoyed in the dark. Fire,
flames shooting higher
than those on a pyre, would be
the defining of “we”
warming any cold December.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for Day 22 of Creative Bloomings “Grenada Camp for Wayward Poets”. The prompt was to write a romance/love poem.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s