Fireside
Fireside
When the soot came down the chimney,
And the sparks fell on the floor,
Then the peg-rug smoked by the fireside,
And the draught came under the door.
When a ‘stranger’ danced on the blazing coal,
Like a face that you’d seen before,
With the pictures there, in the flickered flame,
And the draught came under the door.
With the glowing embers dying,
And the comfort you’d ensure,
From the family there beside you,
And the draught came under the door.
With the toast and taters roasting,
Enough for two, or four,
To munch and crunch and butter,
And the draught came under the door.
The firelight was our picture book,
We would spend an hour or more,
Just sitting, staring, dreaming,
While the draught came under the door.
Mick.
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