The Bighorn Fire
As fire draws
near and spreads its fear
that home may end
in flame,
I search my mind
as now resigned
my treasures it may claim.
What can I leave
with lesser grief
and what dare not
be lost?
What not to save
and later crave...
for so abhor the
cost?
Treasures galore
are held in store
in every home and
heart.
Each souvenir is
held quite dear
and painful to
depart.
Will I despair my
favored chair
if it should be
consumed.
Most property I
guarantee
is loved less
than presumed.
What then is much
too dear to me
to let kismet
destroy?
Most things I own
are toys outgrown…
I need not...but
enjoy.
No need persists in pondering,
all toys will
break anon.
It’s love alone
that I may own
‘till life itself
is gone.
Visit http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com. for more poems by the Laureate.
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