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WHO IS MY MATCH
Who is my match?
Where is my match?
That is the catch
Where is my match
so
the fire can catch
from
a spark
to
a flash
to
a hearth
wood
burning to ash
But who is my match?
Where is my match?
That is the catch
The wood is stacked high
row
upon row
the hearth fire is set
But where
is
my match?
who
is
my match?
when
will
a spark catch
to
light up the dark?
There's wood for three years
dry, ready
to light
Where is the match?
That is the catch
My door's open wide
I wait for a spark
for the match
so the fire will catch
the flame
will take hold
the
kindling will crackle
the wood
will catch
fire
But where is my match?
The wood could be sold
My home could stay cold
The hearth could stay dark
without
a spark
But my door's open wide
to
welcome inside
the
one who's my match
so
the fire will catch
And then
more than one match
to
keep the fire lit
to
keep the fire stoked
for a house to live in
for a life that's been given
a
spark
to
pass through its dark
Elsa
Sept. 5, 1998
©
copyright Elsa Schieder, 1998, 2011, all rights reserved
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Loneliness Poems.
Who is my match, so the fire can catch,
from a spark, to a flash.
Elsa, I get so lonely, sick of being lonely.
Poems Loneliness. Poems on Life. Spoken Words Poetry.
COMMENTS
Love your "Who Will Be My Match?" poem.
I think most of us wonder??? The thing is, matches burn out
and we have to work to relight them or use a new one.
Like friendships and lovers, sadly, often, they are here with us
for a reason/season.
Some are the lucky ones,
who seem to have partnered with a "forever" mate.
JD, Oct 3 '09
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****
A dozen
years ago,
I began to wake up
with word pieces -
words music, spoken word, songs -
in my head.
Escape velocity.
Echo of the echo.
Tank almost empty.
Can't cross the gap.
Welcome into my world.
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Over and over
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Elsa
June 7, 2008
©
copyright - Elsa Schieder - 2006, 2011, all rights reserved
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