Thursday, 10 October 2013

Cast Iron

Blazing as you cough,
laid there flat in cot with cold,
sleep eludes a weary babe of troubled, tender throat.

And close here by the stove,
glowing orange, glowing warm,
blackest iron, whitest ash and wooden log to burn.

Whilst fire bright,
rivals low slung sun outside -
insufficient heat and haze and insufficient height.

Surely gone is summer glare from walls it cannot climb.

From house of stone,
autumn wood and winding road,
cobbled yard and tethered bull in years before our own.

Darker season of the year,
light the lamp and make the tea,
pull on woollen cardigan and tug on length of sleeve.

Solid black beloved core of certain, sudden heat.

one week

If you enjoy my writing you might enjoy my little book - A Familiar Voice - which is available on special offer until Christmas. 


  1. I love autumn and this captures the season beautifully. A lovely read x

    1. Thank you - autumn is my favourite x

  2. Autumn has arrived.... and it's cold and raining and blowing gales outside but this really cheered me up - so very warming. X

    1. I do love autumn - and it's fast forwarded to cold this year x

  3. Your writing is so evocative. X

  4. It was a joy to read this again. Thank you very much for linking up to #oneweek. X

  5. I love autumn, and probably more this year than any other. I am clinging on to the last of it! Reading this warms me, makes me think the cold of winter coming may not be so awful xx #OneWeek

  6. A lovely post which warmed me right up. It's certainly been a season to wrap up warm even with the sunny days. #oneweek

  7. Beautiful words which perfectly describe Autumn. Missed reading your poems, good to be back. x


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