An olde poem about burning wood – For world poetry day!

An olde poem about burning wood – For world poetry day.






Beech-wood fires burn bright and clear If the logs are kept a year;

Store your beech for Christmastide With new-cut holly laid beside;

Chestnut’s only good, they say, If for years ’tis stored away;

Birch and fir-wood burn too fast Blaze too bright and do not last;

Flames from larch will shoot up high, Dangerously the sparks will fly;

But ash-wood green and ash-wood brown Are fit for a Queen with a golden crown.


Oaken logs, if dry and old, Keep away the winter’s cold;

Poplar gives a bitter smoke, Fills your eyes and makes you choke;

Elm-wood burns like churchyard mould, E’en the very flames are cold;

It is by the Irish said; Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread,

Apple-wood will scent the room, Pear-wood smells like flowers in bloom;

But ash-wood wet and ash-wood dry A King may warm his slippers by.



Post Author: LondonArborist

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