by oosh
Glowing from the fire, Ideas fly to anvil; I Forge them into words. Still too hot to bear, In warm blood they hiss and boil, Burning in my core. Gallop, horseshoes bright – Send your sparks into our hearts Ringing on the road. Will they cool with time? Can they set the soul aflame Many years from now? Or, cold and cast off, Nail them up above the door, Hope they bring good luck.