Little orange flame
You start out so small:
You are wispy and frail.
You won't stand, nor fall.

The smallest of winds
Contorts you into a dance.
You are so lovely and free;
I see that at first glance.

Slowly you grow,
Your age suits you well.
Now elegant you stand
On despair you won't dwell.

Little orange flame,
So tall and so bright,
Your glow is so pure,
Please put up a fight.