The Dance of Light

The candle was lit, as it’s wick turned black, To light up the room, of a dark old shack. Flickers and embers, would leave the wick, Wax oozed down sides, the candle went thick. The embers of gold, would spark in the air, As mesmerised eyes, would stop and stare. Fireflies of red, of golden and white, Would begin the flame, that lit up the night. The flame would dance, with twists and twirl, With slight fresh breeze, the flame would curl. It’s dance of energy, the light in the dark, As it flickered and crackled, it’s body would arc. The wax would pour, as the candle would shine, Creating wax legs, so delicate and fine, As it pooled on a plate, and the candle grew small, The light still shone, upon stone wall. A man came by, to say good night, To the red, and golden, flickering light. He blew the candle, and a stream of grey, Would leave the wick, with no delay. Light fazed out, and darkness crept in, The candle would stand, it’s body grew thin. The wax had set, upon its side, The man said goodnight, on his bed he lied.