Firewood And beer

Nikhil Parekh , ( born August 27 ; 1977 ) from Ahmedabad , India - is a Love Poet and 10 time National Record holder for his Poetry with the Limca Book of Records India , which is India's Best Book of Records , also Ranked 2nd in the World officially to Guinness Book of World Records . He is an aut…

When I lit a fire in the peak of sweltering summer; with the Sun dazzling to a fiery radiance in the sky,
Amalgamating pieces of dry logwood and scores of incongruously shaped leaves,
Adding several sheets of crumpled paper along with a plethora of dilapidated brick,
The conflagration caught fumes rapidly; with amber flames leaping at electric speeds towards the clouds,
However I soon extinguished the blaze splashing gigantic buckets of river water; as I could no longer bear the tumultuous heat; with large beads of sweat trickling down my nape.

When I lit a fire under the ominously dark sky; with the thunder clouds partially obliterating my gaze,
The Sun playing hide and seek like a frivolous maiden; appearing for flash seconds; then disappearing again for marathon hours of time,
An ambience of ethereal blackness encompassing the atmosphere; with birds making their journeys homewards,
The majestic peacock spreading the plumage of its kingly feathers; to mesmerizing semicircles,
The fumes no doubt rose to unprecedented heights; however they soon subsided in entirety; as torrential showers of rain came pelting down.

When I lit a fire midway through autumn; with tropical trees sporadically shedding their foliage,
Gathering dead chunks of dilapidated timber; impregnating them with a bulky sheaf of burnt grass blades,
The tepid stream waters gently striking my dreary toes; profoundly accentuated ripples causing high rising waves,
Melodious chirping of the nightingale permeating the air; with a conglomerate of enchanting sounds,
The fumes had a merry time as they swirled in the air; however I annihilated the same; beating them frantically with gunny bags; as they interfered with the moderately cool air hitting my eyes.

And when I lit a fire amidst the snow clad mountain; in the acridly blowing breeze of chilly winter,
Painstakingly managing to ignite the lumber twigs and leaf; rekindling it incessantly with intermittent applications of the rake,
Shielding it from the irrevocable onslaught of gusty winds; camouflaging it under a canvas tent,
A drum replete with lager beer placed by my shivering persona; I felt warm waves of heat instantly soothing the array of goose bumps formed on my skin,
Expressed gratitude from the inner most core of my heart; to the firewood and beer for saving my life from the freezing cold