On a cold winter’s day,
Is where I lay,
Down by the fireplace.
With the bluebirds singing,
Where each snowflake falls,
Catching onto the window sill.
As the fire calls,
Out to me.
Each flame grasps out to me.
The warmth is my heart’s key.
Like little hands, it grabs my soul,
Away it takes it, another thing stole.
Like thievery and trickery,
The fire sneaks by,
The warmth, it surrounds me, leveled to my eye.
As water, salty water, streams down my face,
As I see memories, so many memories,
Woven together lace by lace.
The feel of something so mysterious.
Joy! It’s Joy!
Like opening a gift to find a new toy!
Is the fire apologizing, for taking away the thing I love,
For taking away my soul,
By bringing back memories as clear as crystal?
So many stories it tells.
It is finally coming out of its shell.
Drawing me closer and closer.
A scream. I hear a roar!
The warmth stronger than ever!
More and more I want, my heart pouring out.
What a salty taste, tears give out!
When finally the soft touch of hands wake me up,
From the trance of the fire.
They wrap around me so fiercely,
And I cry more than ever.
Feeling a warmth more powerful than ever.
Love! It’s Love that my mother gives.
Love that pulls me together.
And together we sit,
Down by the fireplace.
With the bluebirds singing,
A merry song!
And the white snowflakes catch onto the window sill.
And together we feel the gentle warmth.
Down by the fireplace.
Akanksha Subbarao is a sixth grader from Texas.