How bad is this ...

[blunt]

I often write poems and song lyrics during quiet moments at work or when I feel inspired. They use to be about surfing, my family, a pretty girl I saw on the street etc. Now they are about wood ... firewood ... mad!

here's one I just scribbled down:

Fell it, Limb it, Cut it - watch it turn to flames
Split it, Chop it, Love it - these crazy firewood games

Oak, Elm and Maple, some un-wanted Pine
Cut it, Split it, Rip it, this firewood so fine

They keep telling me 'its hard work' but I just nod and smile
The keep telling me 'its fools gold' and I must be off my dial

But passion for things timber is firing thru my veins
Fell it, Limb it, cut it - and watch it turn to flames.

 

[PA Plumber]

I often write poems and song lyrics during quiet moments at work or when I feel inspired. They use to be about surfing, my family, a pretty girl I saw on the street etc. Now they are about wood ... firewood ... mad!

here's one I just scribbled down:

Fell it, Limb it, Cut it - watch it turn to flames
Split it, Chop it, Love it - these crazy firewood games

Oak, Elm and Maple, some un-wanted Pine
Cut it, Split it, Rip it, this firewood so fine

They keep telling me 'its hard work' but I just nod and smile
The keep telling me 'its fools gold' and I must be off my dial

But passion for things timber is firing thru my veins
Fell it, Limb it, cut it - and watch it turn to flames.

That just burns me up. (Sorry, I fought the urge to right that, but the urge won.)

 

[RaisedByWolves]

For the acustic guitar or a banjo, youll be fine.


Backed by an electric guitar, the Deaf will boo you.......



.

 

[mga]

Fell it, Limb it, Cut it - watch it turn to flames
Split it, Chop it, Love it - these crazy firewood games

i gotta say, when you carry in that wood in , knowing that you climbed, cut, carried, split, and stacked each piece, you sit there and watch all your hard work literally go up in flames. you can almost remember each tree as you grab a log to throw in.

but, in a strange way, the warmth of the fire kinda makes it all worth it.

 

[Sprig]

Fell it, Limb it, Cut it - watch it turn to flames
Split it, Chop it, Love it - these crazy firewood games

i gotta say, when you carry in that wood in , knowing that you climbed, cut, carried, split, and stacked each piece, you sit there and watch all your hard work literally go up in flames. you can almost remember each tree as you grab a log to throw in.

but, in a strange way, the warmth of the fire kinda makes it all worth it.

Not to take away from the OP but I know this, like a year later finding that POS knotty piece that ya fought with and seeing it again, the remembder heartache, the pitch, the curses, and going 'Holy cow plop!', I remember that sucker, near killed me!', dunno if that's enlightening or not but it has always been a source of satisfaction to watch that puppy burn and feel its warmth through my space, just a mere observation on my behalf. Some sticks just stuck in your mind.

(I have nothing sensible or worthy to post this evening, time ta go eh )

Serge