Hearth
by Tom Kitt
Sitting quietly I ponder
The knowledge that I own:
Demon’s come breathing fire.
I try to ignore them
I am on my journey home
To sit by the hearth.
To watch the turf fire burning
In my cottage of straw and stone
My sacred home of whitewashed stone.
A cathedral to house the hearth
That burns the demons hold
There I must abide.
There I must abide - as a child
Naked before the monsters eyes
Guileless and wise.
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