Black Cast-Iron Wood Stove - JohnD

“Our getaway cabin,” we'd named it so.
As father would drive, mother smiled and eased.
The radio played as healing winds breezed.
But for the stove, mom delighted to go.

She clashed with that black cast-iron wood stove.
It didn't like cooking, so everything burned.
But through the years, it taught and it learned.
Oh, “our getaway cabin” at Meadow Grove.

We got the call on Friday, how mom cried.
We drove out and sure enough everything burned.
But for the stove, all was ash, all was stern.
That day it seemed a part of mom just died.

Yet, the stove looked new with a thick, rich glaze.
Mom bowed before it in honor and praise.


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