When a Gracious Lady Lights a Candle

Creatures of earth Where do thou draw thy mirth? Thou fumble through bed of roses And flaunt thy jewels and dresses. Then thou smile and chortle But where do smiles go after? I am a lady Voice little, inaudible. Yet a prayer must not be loud Not even like a tiptoe Or the shingles of ornaments from Cleopatra’s neck. A prayer must be as silent as that of the nativity scene, As humble as the child in that manger. I wish not of silvers or golds Neither of clothes that mark differences Nor cars that make distance I desire of armor not for myself But for my son and daughters That they may tread on life, Free from evil’s snares. I pray for an Evergreen tree Planted on my husband’s heart. For like that tree, love must not wilt nor fade. I light a candle.