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This particular poem stemmed from my own thoughts regarding candles. As many people do I lit candles alllll the time in my younger years and then as I grew older I burned less and less candles.

It is something that gives us such pleasure yet for some odd reason slowly gets put by the wayside and no thought is given as to why.

I decided on the spot that I will burn every candle I have been saving for a `special`occasion and buy a cartload more to replace them as they see their last flame. I decided to live with those flames and scents that have been cast aside for no apparent reason.

They warm my heart and give me contentment. Candles burning give me a feeling of peacefulness.

Yes! It FEELS so good ! to enjoy those memories as I stare at the fire !

 

The Flame
As the flames die slowly with the night,
Extinguishing the day
Smoke silhouetting through the quiet air
Taking shape of snapshots
Of memories, not long forgotten,
Igniting sweet desires instead;
Of candles burning every night
And romance in the atmosphere;
The scent of rare patchouli
Teasing in the shadows;
Nostrils slightly flared.
Soft rock music fills
The gaps between silent knowing glances
Mismatched glasses toasting
Filled with cheap Chianti
As the bottle gathers wax.
Cracker crumbs fall in between
Well-worn cushions of the couch.
Baby-doll pyjamas barely
Bothering to cover.

&

The night falls inaudibly.
Stealing eyes’ content and gentle smile
Baccarat crystal shattering
Falling from her fragile grip,
Onto the shining marble floor
Mimicking a blood bath
Is Châteauneuf-de-Pape.
Slumped in true abandon
Of this life she’s earned to live
Returning to her heart’s true love
If only in her vivid final dream…
Lasting an eternity
Meeting her rebirth
Embossed upon her soul
As the next life starts de novo
And the flame again ablaze.

Lesley – Rose coloured glasses suit my face. Forcing the look in.

This week a previously submitted poem was published via Morgen Bailey`s Blog post (below). Post-weekend Poetry 020: ‘The Flame’ by Lesley Fletcher.