Ange
she lay upon a floral plinth...
prone, willing for my gaze...
and as my eyes caressed her form...
my mind became a haze....
then as the real and present prize...
reward for my desire...
warmed away the confused fog...
I was smoked out by the fire!
John Coopey
Wed 9th Oct 2013 20:22
My mother used to say that a small blue flame bursting from burning coal meant a stranger would come. A more scientific explanation was that it was burning methane. I preferred my mother's interpretation.