The Candle

You're pictured with a most perfect Life;

A cozy town and a flawlessly beautiful wife;

Children handsome, winsome and fair

A house embraced with a perfect cultural flair.

But

Near the misty path, you saw where stood

Wrapped and cloaked within the heather'd wood

She watched you grasp and reach for light;

An empty hand; a visionless sight.

Then

From her pocket she did quietly withdraw

A taper of lavender, made of the dreams she saw.

The wick was immaculate, it ne'er been lit;

But now a golden flame she held out toward it.

As

You searched,and crashed in your own darkened night,

Then she held aloft the candle of her radiant delight

In the Flame she saw your heart, e'er crystal clear;

She knew there was ne'er a doubt, the candle had brough you near.

While

Tumbling and Stumbling over holes of gaping change

While colors of autumn mapled leaves do rearrange

The greens of idyllic, and ever hope-filled youth

Her candle does burn for you, e'er as Fortune's "truth".

So

That flame does now flicker about her green eyes

While she never would attempt to alter or somehow disguise

Her dreams of your leaves that will bloom anew;

Holding the candle with hope for the love of you.

A chance encounter, there in that glade

While the candle doth burn and hopes are made

For two strangers passing upon the indigo sea;

Tumbling e'er toward their appointed time to be.

No arctic blast will extinguish this flame;

No earthly pall; nor torrential cold rain;

Tis ever to burn, eternally silver white;

This candle she holds through day and night.

Copyright Dancer, Inc.1997