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By Ashleigh Hatter

Oh, would I that the fire in my heart,
in my head,
could match the heat of the world’s fever;
that damned thing, ever ebbing and offended over this an’ that.

Lord, if such a fire I possessed,
all men may yield me,
all maidens yearn,
all children heed me,
and all the world learn.

Published by Ashleigh Hatter

Lovesick husband, proud/exhausted father; poet and storyteller and snarky asshole.

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1 Comment

  1. Pingback: A New Day – Drunken Pen Writing

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