Heartbeat

In the heart of Bealtaine, where winter winds blow,
The wood stove is humming with a deep, amber glow.
Outside, the frost feathers the glass of the pane,
But inside is a sanctuary, safe from the rain.


The dry logs of ash and the seasoned old oak,
Release their sweet scent in a thin curl of smoke.
The hearth is the heartbeat, the pulse of the room,
Defying the chill and the gathering gloom.


The kettle is singing a low, steady song,
As the shadows of evening grow heavy and long.
With a flicker of orange and a crackle of heat,
The spirit of summer and winter fires meet.


Wrapped in the warmth of the iron and stone,
The soul finds a stillness it calls its own.
Though the garden lies sleeping in silver and white,
The stove keeps the flame of the cottage alight.
Colette O’Neill, December 2023

23 comments

  1. I love your poem. It brought light and warmth to me on a cold day in Dublin on the next to last day of 2025.

  2. Beautiful, homely, comforting words, Colette. Love and blessings to you from Terri and myself. We will take a wee tipple for you and the land in your care. May the year ahead be full of healing, joy and creation XXX

  3. I Wish you and Patsy a wonderful News Years
    Blessings and Greetings from Daggy Kiel Germany ☘️☘️☘️

  4. So beautiful! Thanks for years of wonderful videos.
    Merry Christmas and blessings to you, dear Colette!

  5. Lovely poem Colette, Happy Holidays to you and good wishes for a healthy New Year.
    Cheers,
    Michael

  6. Thank you for this gorgeous, cozy poem! If I substituted the word “Vermont” for “Bealtaine” it would perfectly describe my little cottage and wood burner, the heart of the home. Blessings to you dear Colette and little Patsy too!

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