This poem was written in a cozy recliner chair just feet away from the stove.
There’s a faint crackle and pop
a forced heat that doesn’t stop
a flicker of orange
and illuminating light
a warmth that feels so right
While the frigid whipping winds
push at our window
an armful of wood fuels
the steady warm glow
Coming into the winter months it’s a common sight to see gloves, hats and shoes parked at the stove. Visitors are drawn to its presence and stand huddling over it, as many have over the years. Our in-laws had this stove first in their quaint log home. I vividly remember standing over this beauty. Within minutes the suppressing heat would scorch my legs and I would have to back up, but not too far. Now our future daughter in law, Lexy, stands over it too!
Here’s to a little heat in the chilly days ahead!
All My Best,
Heart and Soul 💗