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BY THE FIRE PIT

Far too cold to hear the crickets sing
on this clear November night
with moon encircled by a ring
and stars above so dense and bright

The tic of leaves the only sound
as they fall gently from the trees
to come to rest on frosted ground
while puddle edges start to freeze

On distant road the headlights glow
flickering through the oaks and pines
where pale mushrooms sprout and grow
among the honeysuckle vines

Barred owl inquires about your cook
from beyond a distant ridge
within his secret, hidden nook
a train whistles from the river bridge

Against my side I feel you shiver
as we sit before a dying fire
on a night that's destined to deliver
the first hint of coming warm desire

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
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Comments

This is a nature poem with true heart! I am envious, and wish I had your way with rhyme. You really know how to turn a phrase! The title doesn't do it justice, but I don't know what to suggest. My favorites are the last lines:

Against my side I feel you shiver
as we sit before a dying fire
on a night that's destined to deliver
the first hint of coming warm desire

*sigh...

I have no suggestions as I think this poem is perfect as is.
always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

I am so pleased you enjoyed this but I'm also aware perfection is beyond my scope lol............stan

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