Wood Burning Stove

O the wood-burning stove,
Took in a big draw.
It pushed out the heat,
The most way...I saw.

Drawing and pulling,
The cold went outside.
And the heat waves encircled,
And stayed there inside.

So often I fed it,
Wood from my arms.
As it cooed and it sputtered,
And showed off it's charms.

To cuddle next to it,
No courage did I lack.
As the heat wrapped around me,
And lay warm on my back.

O the wood-burning stove,
You are a real treasure.
You are soothing to my soul,
And an ointment to my pleasure.


E.P. 1908 - 1989