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THE CAMPFIRE
Embers red,
Ashes gray,
Lazily I watch,
As the flames dance and play.
With a snap or a pop,
Sparks take to the sky,
Blinking out from sight,
Their fire dying as they fly.
The intoxicating scent,
Combines with a warming glow,
Seeping deep inside me,
Causing time itself to slow.
This gift we call a campfire,
A most relaxing thing to see,
Sitting beside it gazing deep,
Setting you’re soul free.
