‘The Bent Briar’ – By Seth Finnegan

Bent briar pipe which holds the flame
Charring the rich, brown golden flake
I have held you dear in winter
When the rime frosts thorn and brake

I have felt your silent heat
Smoulder in my purple palm
I have seen thy glow like sunsets
Sink into the sea when calm

Up the columned smoke its fingers
Melt into the scented air
Still the fire burns fierce and sweetly
Still the habit cures my care

And If I think of love when smoking
Thoughts that fill the tearful eye
Return when lit, my old bent beauty
Other names for love reply

By Seth Finnegan