Bloated
Cheeks plush
Peachy with
Blood rush
And sparkling eyes
Awe-filled
Aching sighs
Amping joy, thus
Excitement afloat
While boredom is scolded.

Swollen oaks with wetted leaves soaked as the ethereal kiss of day welcomes the sunken noon waking a slumbering moon and the cold confides confidently coating my spine, so I lay the wood and paper, in the ash covered pit and by the second spark a warmer applause cracks through the nighttime freeze and light my eyes as the fire rises and fireflies lend a calmer mend to this winter twilight singing astutely a lullaby to fear the horse of Death as the radio plays "Don't Fear The Reaper"...