‘The Potters Furnace’

The Potters Furnace

	      1

We all hope, in our lives, 
For things – big or small- 
For miracles and dreams to come true.
We wish on shooting stars
That dash across the vast, dark sky.
We pray to Gods we may never know
For things we cannot control.
We look to the universe for signs,
Guidance and a hand to hold.
What would life be without hopes,
Hopes of better things to come 
hurrying in our direction,
Of exciting things to do,
Places to go, people to meet. 
Hopes are so fragile set in another’s hands,
Sometimes so in your own.
Shattered, mended but a piece must stay
If not today maybe tomorrow, you’ll say
If not tomorrow maybe the next, or month or year…
But the light must not go out.
Please. Let the embers spark and burn,
Smouldering away in your core
Till someone or something
Comes with oxygen, logs, fuel 
to set your soul back into a passionate roaring blaze. 


	         2

Clay cracks
In the heat

Broken, thrown out.

Clay hardens
In the heat

An object made, cherished.

Shattered shafts
or 
craftily created

Is it worth the risk? 



		3
	   Notes on Fire

Crickle, crackle, Pop
Spark and fly
Red hot embers go to grey cold at the top
A journey from vibrancy to dullness
Of life to death? Flesh to stone.

Crickle, crackle, hiss
Rage and grow
Tall in the confines of your birthplace
Reaching the heights, curving out low, 
all-encompassing you glow. 

I used to be afraid of you
With your smoky tentacles outstretched
Aiming for my neck.
Boiling to the touch
Bubbling my blood
Devouring what you reach
Feasting on creation
Altering the landscape
With a singed ridge.
London bridge is falling down,
Homes tumbling into your awaiting jaws,
Your teeth searing into timber topples
People pace fast to escape your climbing claws
Scrambling for breath to keep 
their hopeful hearts hammering.

Yet one side of the seeking sword is blunt
To wield; for our cool hands to grab
And our yearning, protective eyes to see.

And I look at you now in your cage,
Behind bars controlled,
Watching sparks fly like shooting stars
and your shortened tentacles dance in the wind
Reaching toward the sky. 

Written By Accalia Smith

Published by Accalia Smith

I am a student in the UK studying English Literature at RHUL and an aspiring writer.

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