One Wintery Night... Poem by Varsha M

Charcoal is hope for poor
Spending chilling nights in pipe
Without a blanket to warm
Or a woolen to sustain.

Charcoal smoulder after abandoning
The gray smoke making all suffocating
Now settled with dull ash covering
But keeping temperature balancing.

Charcoal like the staff of shepherd
Comfort them in chilly breeze absurd
Until it dons sun's pleasure guard
Blooming like a flower, the humble steward.

Charcoal the my true solace
As the wintery night pace
I know now, life is a grace
For which I should race.

Charcoal under ash jacket
Even though no flame rocket
Smouldering within pocket
Serving unto last breath, docket.