The Hearth |
 |
| Between me and reason does emotion intrude |
| With its irrational appeal |
| Emotion's shape is warm, though crude |
| Simply put - it's how I feel |
| |
| To the cosmopolitan it's a barrier |
| To success, of course, though not to life |
| That hearth to me is a courier |
| Of love, which confronts the strife |
| |
| Which we endure through peace or war |
| Where loved ones gather when it's cold |
| The fireside delegates stress afar |
| And many a traditional story is told |
| |
| I ask myself, in retrospect |
| Is it the story or the hearth |
| It's a merger of the two, I suspect |
| The laughter, the crack of burning wood |
| Does not allow me to depart |
| |
| Jean Lunt Marinovic |
| 1990 |
| |
