Sep 2017
Burning in the night
A candle waves about.
Puffs of smoke rise up.
The space glows—flickering.
A soothing warmth cuts the darkened space.
She sets to pen and paper then dreams.
Recording her thoughts and soulful musings,
Light flows out across the page.
Here, where time has lost its meaning,
The wick is burning and the wax is melting.
The glow is soothing and her words are moving.
A story grows in the throes of her feelings.
A candle waves about.
Puffs of smoke rise up.
The space glows—flickering.
A soothing warmth cuts the darkened space.
She sets to pen and paper then dreams.
Recording her thoughts and soulful musings,
Light flows out across the page.
Here, where time has lost its meaning,
The wick is burning and the wax is melting.
The glow is soothing and her words are moving.
A story grows in the throes of her feelings.
I've been doing some significant editing and re-writing preceding the publication of a book. This poem took on quite a few new turns so I decided to re-post it.
