*BTW this was the first poem I ever had published.*


I lie on a table, shelf, or a desk
Waiting patiently for my wick to be lit
I see you walk forward with a match in hand
A flame that is orange and illuminates thy hand
Quickly, but neatly, you light me with ease
As my flame smiles brightly
Scaring ye shadows that you see
You sit in a chair
Your body in the bright warmth of thy light
Wax melts, then begins to pool
My once tall height
I'm starting to lose
My flame is slowing
It's tired, you see
As you walk by
And blow cold air onto thee
You walk away to slumber, you see
But whenever you need to read
There, you shall always have me

Very good girl and congrats on it being published.

Always thier but never noticed...one small flame
(iam4u)

Very nice poem. Just like a friend that would always be there for you.
love it!

be sure you don't burn candles at both ends...

nice poem!!!