Mark Scrivener

Poetry Poems Original Verse

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

CANDLELIGHT


CANDLELIGHT

Winter evening’s
early darkness was
without.

I lay upon my bed.
Suddenly
the steady-shining
bulb above my head
flickered and went dead,
leaving night
within.

I rose in dimness,
reached out and took
a stout, old candle from
a wardrobe top.

I struck a match
and lit the wick,
seeing fleeting fire catch
and burn in darkness. Light,
small but glowing, gave
clear sight.

Small, single flame,
one drop of fire,
one solitary shining,
yet rays the cheer of light;
still casts a warm
lucidity upon each form,
dissolving the invading
darkness of the night.

Though it is but
a single point
of light’s creation,
all in its sphere receives
illumination.


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