In the night it shines bright,

With its blaze above,

A crackle, a hiss, a big warm light,

Why can’t this be loved.

 

We see its flare dancing in the air,

I wonder why this is,

I come to the concussion this must be rare,

This is a sight to see.

 

I can cook, I can boil,

I can burn all things,

Watching it grow without oil,

It is without doubt, the King of Kings.

 

Its rage, its angrier, Yes it can be seen,

So proceed with caution I would do,

Get to close it might become mean,

You might be jumping back saying “OOH”.

 

Its beauty, its warm may be over look,

If you feed it, it grows as the flames jump high,

Look at it long enough you might be hooked,

You might be watching it with an alley.

 

Fire, Fire, I will make do,

So Fire, Fire, I choose you.