Firewood

They blossomed red-hot

Two blazing flowers of a

Budding love story

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Hands held snug as corded wood

Arms wrapped tight they stood

In love like campfire warmth

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Their kisses left burns

Passion-scars for all to see

They chose not to care

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pop

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A damp log sneaks in

The snapping, the bickering

Throwing angry sparks

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The flare-up gives them a fright

The flames are too bright

No one goes back for more wood

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Night falls more quickly

What once was roaring flickers

It wilts in the dark

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Blazing petals turn to ash

Blossoms fizzle out

She goes and gets a bucket.