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The Hearth (Poem)

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As I sit in the corner of the kitchen,
I watch her glide smoothly all over the room.
Watching her every move is titillating.
Unsure of what it might be,
I leave it be.
For this is her temple.
She knows it backwards and forwards.
She knows her cabinets better than anyone else ever could.
In one cabinet by the stove,
there are dozens of jars filled to the brim with herbs and spices.
No one is allowed in that cabinet.
For that cabinet is sacred to her.
For it is sacred to the rest of the gods and goddesses.
I dare not touch a thing.
Instead, I sit in my chair while my eyes are fixed on Hestia.
Watching her fix healing meals and remedies to heal my body.
I’m thankful to her.
For she is the one I follow.
The one that I have devoted my life to.
She is the goddess of hearth,
And forever more she shall be.

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