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I rise, cracking and spluttering,
Warming people to the bones;
I light the way for some,
But can drive others from their homes.

I can rampage through streets,
Causing terror and pain;
People lose their lives to me,
But I care not what I gain.

I can cook food for some,
The family's Sunday roast;
I can burn meat to ashes,
Or turn people into ghosts.

I can crawl through royal palaces,
Without regard for class;
I can leave my mark on people,
Licking their skin as I pass.

Yet once subdued and tamed,
I can help people heal;
I can warm their hearts and homes,
And give them their daily meal.

by Poppy Wakefield (14)
St. Mary's School, Shaftesbury

Competition - The Poetry Trials

Copyright remains with the author.