Heartwarming

A happy autumn morning’s work:
Ten hundredweight of warmth and light
All passing through my rough-gloved hands
Safe now, stacked up and covered over.

All those odd angles, planes and faces
Edges, corners, bark and splinters
Locked and jammed tight in together;
A mighty wall against the cold.

And every lump of ash and oak
Is like a gift I give myself;
A hoard of shining gold and rubies
Held against a fickle future.

And when the nights come armed with steel
This simple labour is rewarded
With the comfort of my loved ones.
And in this moment, I am aglow.

4 thoughts on “Heartwarming

    • I wish I was able to cut my own wood, Charles; it’s still a dream of mine to live in a place where that was possible. Sadly I’m a poor town-dweller and have to get it delivered in a big half-ton bag on the back of truck; but at least I get to handle, smell and stack it – and the old saying is true: wood really does warm you twice! N.

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