The Story Behind the Poem: Playing With Fire

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      In 1991, I had lost quite of bit of weight and I was enjoying being an attractive woman. My husband was very worried over finances at that time and so he didn't notice me particularly. Bill and I worked together and one day he was in my office and as he was about to leave he kissed me. This was just a brief kiss on the lips. I looked at him and said, "Bill, if we are going to kiss, let's really kiss." At which point we did. I really liked that kiss and we started kissing quite often. Knowing where that usually leads and not wanting to go there yet I suggested that we stay at that level of kissing only until New Year's (it was mid November) at which point we cold decide what we wanted to do. So we did and we spent our lunches together, breaks and a occasional time on Saturdays. After New Year's Eve we scheduled a meeting in my office. I really tried to figure out a way I could make love to Bill and keep my marriage, my post, my reputation, etc. But there was no way. So I told him we had to end off on the kissing. He agreed, we said good-bye (for the day.) I left my office to walk downtown to go shopping. As I walked I started to cry, really cry. Why am I crying? I asked myself. I realized that I had fallen in love with him. I was so pissed at myself! Stupid! And I told myself, "You play with fire, you're going to get burnt!"

     Forward to January 2020. My husband had died and Bill and I got back together. The love was still there, resurrected so to speak. I remembered what I had said to myself and I wrote the poem.


Playing with Fire


All children learn:

You play with fire

You get burned.


All lovers learn:

A flame that's hot

Can also burn.


We lit a torch

That seared my soul,

I knew I'd never

Get out whole.


Then from the ashes

Rose anew

The love I'd always

Had for you.




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