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Daniel Long Dec 2018
Those floating candles.
Passing by
along those steady streams.

A burning incense.
Dripping wax  
upon those vanilla sticks.

Puddles now at their lids.
Dried to a still,
past burns are seen.
Love poem.
My poetry/short story website:
Brynn S Nov 2018
Return to the skies
Each moment of bliss
Silence spreads
Like a momentary kiss
Rip those thorn
Exhale the petals
Grasping for the handle
Fighting for love
At the smoke of a candle
Becca Nov 2018
watch the ball of fire
slowly trickle into the rubble
as the young lady’s
smile turns upside down
her crystals lay so peacefully
upon her cauldron shelf
the book in which her spells lay
is magic like the stars
the candles are dancing with fire
around the a big book
watch the ball of fire
fly above the rubble
spitting fireworks
into smoke
and her frown into a smile
Arianna Nov 2018
Gossamer candlelight
The sole barrier
Between my skin and evening air,

Its golden honey spilling warm o'er my neck,
Woven with summer breeze and incense
Through't my hair

As I attend
The garden harmony
Of crickets with the nightingale.
Nik Bland Sep 2018
And I saw candles in the skylight
That forced me to look outward
Their flickered flames in twilight
Made is so there was not an echoed word

I looked upward, onward
At a world ending above me
As if a deaf man’s silence as he hears
The first strings of a symphony

Under that purple and crimson sky
The masses joined my gaze
Looking to horizons, not one eye dry
As endless candles floated in the haze

The sun it set, or did it burst?
A gasp, a rush, then no more
As candles fell from darkened sky
And set fire to the floor

But I will remember the penultimate
The flickered flames in technicolor sky
The beauty near the ending for which I was present
As all and all and all said goodbye
Sometimes endings are the most beautiful things in the world. Biting into a bittersweet fruit that was only meant to be tasted once, then ultimately lost...
JP Goss Sep 2018
In the middle of it all, linoleum and cleaners
I find the shelves of candles and pry off their lids
Just to find out what scents they hid.
No noise, no racket, and nothing meaner.

The balsam fir in craters of wax
A chirstmas tree hunt and sugarsnackes
Recollect times to play and relax
Late December days and skies overcast
The carrides back smelled of this.

Of the wild rose, all pink and flush
Our faces betrayed us after stealing a kiss
And stealing away hidden with a wild blush
When asked just where we were.

I’d say the black bamboo
Where the growing pains began
I remembered what I never wanted to know
Smelling her sweat on my hands.

After every cupcake and fall harvest
We felt torn in two
Amidst the parents and summer’s zest
Everything I wanted couldn’t possibly be true,

The strawberries, the honeybees
Clean linen on a quick, tense rainstorm
I fell to my knees,
Afraid that my passions would
Take on another form.

Far too wild and winterborn,
You have your sleights in sympathy
And obtain what may decorate your court
I amuse you with love: an elegy.

But, the heart is no traitor, not to any court
And says I’m no citizen of your lovely heart
I’m a smiling nomad that goes in due time
And, love, we can trade castles
Since you’re no citizen of mine.

Again, the scents linger with no flame to their wick
Closed were their lids to choke out the burn
Cool were the insides, like ash in an urn
A single spark dazzles but goes out too quick
Each smell left unfamiliar may not have you
It’s not you and me, but me and you and you and you.
SpiritAnimal Aug 2018
A great hall
thousands of candles
each lit
their lights flickering erratically.

A great hall
thousands of candles
one by one
they go out.

A great hall
one candle is left
surrounded by darkness
drowning it.
Rafał Aug 2018
Flowers wither away
They form a blanket of petals
Through the fall they decay
In winter, the snow settles

I hide my hands in sleeves
Of my cotton sweater
Stomping on the swathes of leaves
Welcoming the autumn weather

The rain pours nearly every evening
I sit and write by the lit candles
At night I fall deep into dreaming
Covered in warm blankets

The fireplace sooths the numbness
And hot tea warms up my body
Imagination cures the dullness
I'm mesmerized by the smell of coffee
astraea Aug 2018
somehow, right now,
it’s winter and i’m wrapped in your embrace.
somehow, it’s winter and we’re all wearing brown,
sitting on soft couches and listening,
pretending we’re oh so smart,
when really?
we’re oh,

and all our hearts, they’re strewn across the floor,
all our work is forgotten,
as we kiss and touch and watch the snow fall,
and sit down to dinner,
where we slow dance -in the living room,
then wrap our arms around each other,
repeat the same songs on some ancient tape player.

those slow drumbeats, the soft jazz notes,
the growing thrum of this cursed city
-the one we danced to? sank into the sheets with?
this, this is where we got lost in us.
with the snowfall outside and, who would have noticed
that we smell like something other than fall candles.

i grin, and we grab our things off the floor,
and laugh it off. somehow, we know this place,
it’ll always be our home. after all,
sweaters cover our marks in a way sun-clothes can’t,
don’t they darling?

now, soft skin, pearlescent,
seems like some sort of luxury, a wish made during yule,
something i can only share with you,
because truly, i don’t think i’d want to share this cold place,
unless they were you.

and as we waltz to slow music, as we plan, as we laugh,
as we sit down in the candles,
i think i’m falling all over again,
because your eyes look hodded in the light,
your skin inviting, your mouth soft,
and your smile makes me wish you’d swallow me whole.
based on perfect places (lorde), and **** your darlings.

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