The Crackling Fire Poem by john (called jack) wren

She stood by the crackling fire
a blush lay on her cheek
it was nestled in perfection
and clouded in mystique

I held her by the crackling fire
in the silence of the night
with trembling lips I asked her
to let our hearts unite

We kissed by the crackling fire
in the most genteel way
my mouth reposed upon her lips
as tender as blossom in May

As we left the crackling fire
I feared it would not last
love dwindled like the crackling fire
and vanished in the past