Candlelight.
in the dead of night
I care not for the howling winds
or the oozing shadows
strike a match
bring the heat to a wick;
the sun has left her children behind
when all is silent
and you cannot sleep
nurse the yellow-red child against
the cruel winds
lest the shadows devour the light
watch the flames flicker and yearn
to touch the night-sky, to take a place among
the stars, and bathe in the silver bright
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Poetry Scandals
PoetryPoetry, filled with angst, maybe some bittersweet ones, perhaps happy, if I actually get there. Relationships, friendships, memories and yearnings for things long gone and long lost. A virtual anthology of the scandals these poems are, at your finge...