The shade of orange makes me feel so warm…

I know if I touch it
I will be scorned.

So I sit and watch the movie it makes
And a moment of rage.

Reaching up with a tiny twist
Then Rolling out into the shape of a fist.

The wind gusts down from above
But all it does is give it a shove.

Peaceful now
It’s nearly asleep
I think it’s looking rather sheep.

Throw on the dry blocks of ready wood
My Nannies fireplace was always good.

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