Flaxen fireplacesA Chapter by MoonieThis poem is about the incorrect perceptions of security that haunt the human psych.
Flaxen fireplaces
with shiny mantelpieces beckon me. They call me in mysterious ways. On winter nights through moths and icy leave when I stop and linger-- the warmth of a distant hut calls me, whispers my name. "All is deception," my instincts claim. But my heart gives way, I slip quietly away. Pull my cloak up and wander to those strange fireplaces which, I know, are yarns of delusion..
© 2018 MoonieAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
893 Views
17 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on July 23, 2014Last Updated on July 22, 2018 |

Flag Writing