General

The hearth of my soul converts hope to flame as easily as that of my home converts wood to warm amber glow.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 22, 2021.
General

The hearth is ever the ashes and phoenix too, for as the Olympic flame, it is always dancing in our kitchen.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 22, 2021.
General

The hearth is the heart of our kitchen, ever-giving of warmth and light into the core of our family.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 22, 2021.
General

In soft hearth-light, I feel my pulse become an ever steadier beat, encouraging my inner lyrics toward soulful and loving words.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 22, 2021.
General

Before the hearth flames were large grey stones, the kind with a tinge of green. Tiger imagined the moss still in there, becoming one with the rock. As the warm hues of the evening sky spread, calling the stars for an encore, she would see the warm red glows, and oranges that flickered over them. It was as if, even as she awaited a new dawn, the essence of a rainbow remained. There was something about it that soothed her as much as warm cocoa.