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03-25-2017, 05:53 AM | #24 | ||
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THE CANDLE
The essence is now no more though I did not see it die, gone it's calming sheen, I feel loss but do not know why, but miss soft vibrate scene . For I could watch forever such a glowing sensuous sway, with it's coloured aura, a red through to blue teasing play, atop waxy leafless flora. A final touch of wispy charcoal smog from blackened wick, brief vapid scent, semi liquid fingers drip down then stick, for now a candle spent. Fields of wheat I am standing in a field of wheat nearly harvest ready, my eyes are tightly shut, arms outstretched to steady as I slowly place my foot. My ungainly faltering gait reminds me I should stop. I am completely blind, motionless amidst the crop when joy untold I find. Other senses are invoked as sight has now been shed, insects hum and sing, a symphony by Grasshopper led, accents by corvid wing. I feel warm solar lips brush tenderly against my hair, and hear the rush, of wheat flock sway by fussing air toying without crush. Spice tinged scent, barely there from a hidden source, pollen and cereal dust, birdsong a melody of Morse, caught on sudden Gust. I relish this sensual treat, that caught me by surprise, the moment I closed my eyes. A falling leaf Through Autumn, long Winter and many a violent Spring storm, always it's leaves it kept, just now I chanced upon a falling form as a single leaf it softly wept. Possessed of delicate poise, a parchment piece of russet trees, floated without any sound, slowly turning, nudged by a breeze down towards the ground. It was the first of it's kind to let slip from high up where it held, a moment of discarded worth, yet one that of the future spelled, a sign of the tree's rebirth. |
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"Thanks for this!" says: | ger715 (03-25-2017) |
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