Red coals

The red coals glowed warming us like a mother
Faces and little men were formed and disappeared
In the back room,the kettle was always on
There was a special grate with a flat top.
Kettle  blackened  on one side was always simmering.
Before,we had a fireplace with an oven where our nightclothes were warmed
Or potato cakes baked.Why,it even heated the water for the hot tap
We didn’t have a bath,only the tin one
Coals  sacred  like the burning bush,bring
Memories of love and joy at Xmas
With smiling parents and brothers calmed for once
I think the next year he was ill.
I don’t want to forget they were happy for  7 years
And mother was a mother then