Syncretize!

I know nothing of Saint Brigid  
and I suppose I should  
but winter remains quite frigid
if I'm not burning wood,
 
or switching on electric heat
to smell potatoes bake,
and roast the water, rinse, repeat,
for showers that I take.
 
But if she is another muse,
a patroness of verse,
she'll sweetly daze, and thus enthuse,
my thoughts to intersperse...
 
for lexical fertility
to stay in shape for spring,
and ward off imbecility...
like Martin Luther King!