No Smoke without Fire nor Fire without Smoke
Pamela McCreight
2009
Witticism runs like wildfire on the minds of all, yet the minds find no time to depict in proper form, an adage or two that clarify the nuisances that many find hard to bear, as if the forest of trees were plum gone. However dimly lit the painted picture would need to be, the stars shedding just enough light and the full moon possibly being too bright; casts shadows that the fire might divulge and the smoke may veil. Hard work may make a life, but ye life may not be livable. Smoke brings clouds of imperative warning to those who care; just as the hottest burning flames can torch the loveless from their perch. Life is for those willing to get burned, or possibly choked out or cured by the billows that overshadow. Smoke and Fire are nothing without air.
The merry maids do their work to bring forth the flames that keep the family warm, whilst one of them is merrier than most, she keeps Father warmer. While fanning the flames of desire, she caps the flames within the marital bed, bringing forth a smoldering smoky mess of promises once sought and attained, yet left to fade away. The Misses is no fool, she understands that the flames are fanned and the wood is stoked and the kindling basket is full when cravings are met, and the family stays warm and together. The Misses is no cretin, she understands that Father works diligent and hard to make this home. The Misses is certainly not a dunce, she values Fathers family shekels, for they bought her a brilliant Tiffany necklace to match his grandmothers stunning diamond ring that fits loosely on her beautiful long matrimonial finger. The Misses is not a simpleton, she comprehends the theoretic repartee that there is no life without mirth or toil, no sun without rain, no fire without smoke. There is air to breathe on any given day. The benefits of understanding this holds all true, fire and smoke can be squashed with a bucket of icy cold water, however, life would be contemptible and hardly worth living.
I wrote this a few years ago. I chuckled as I stumbled across it this morning searching for my lesson plans that have already been devised. It was a parody of "Everybody's Business is Nobody's Business" by Daniel Defoe. Oh, how times rarely change. We suffer when we want to. When we chose not to suffer.... Well - it really doesn't matter. There is always air to breathe on any given day.
