The candle trembles in the draft
shadows stretching like whispered secrets.
A single heartbeat fractures the dark
and stars lean closer to listen.
Even the silence carries it still:
we once had our light.
A flame
the greatest threat
to the twilight
of being
One candle
in the darkness
rebirthing
— the night
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
My Love In Candlelight (c) by Russ Dodson 1963, 1985, 2025
The burning candle flickers low
and in the dancing, darting flame
I see your face and now I know
what longing is, I call your name.
I know you hear but you won't heed
my plaintive cry and all the while
my heart cries out it's greatest need,
you do not speak, you only smile.
This isn't real, it can't be true.
You're with him in some other place!
Yet still I feel your presence near,
and still I see your lovely face.
Again I say you can't be here!
I knock the candle to the floor,
but still within the fluttering flame
I see your face, just as before.
Then the candle, flickers, dying,
as it sheds a waxen tear,
can it be that you are crying,
as if afraid the end is near?
The candle now gives up the fight,
the feeble flame begins to wane
and then goes out, and I was right,
for in the dark you're gone again.
Unfilled to over-flowing,
as was her bottle of tears,
with weeping for the fallen woman,
while from her lips to God's ears...
said the Mother Superior,
“I have completely lost track
of how often the Archbishop and I,
wearing ashes and cloth sacks,
crept into the crypt
and made the beast with two backs.
Altho' no one can hold a candle,
to his Grace, yes,
not even the Venerable Abbess,
flagellation notwithstanding,
as a nun married to You,
who committed sacrilege,
I'm ashamed to confess,
I broke your Lord's Commandment
as an unrepentant adulteress.”
Who you wish to blind with a smooch
Alice was yours before she went through
Crazy are bedding sheets you drum,
randomly young and pumped of rum,
red, and white of spring blossoms,
sweet are the hiccup of break-thrus
left-field of the holly-wood signs.....
As a safety felt child shall hum
free of all the conundrums.....
Cheap are not in control of the wines,
but what's a sharp of ice-cream sooth,
when sin was ever your sense of fun?
A candy candle line of finally undone,
Rose, merry and subtle pieces of peaches.
Lighting candles pleases my soul
there's divine magic in each flickering flame
~ they dance with unfettered joy
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
I am a flickering light -
a little candle -
a dancing flame so happy to have been set alight!
But I am fragile, Father.
A sudden gust could blow me out.
A brief shower of rain.
A spiteful touch from cold fingers.
A swell of noxious pride at my own tiny mortal beauty.
So hold me very close, Father.
Shield me with your mighty, gentle hand.
Be patient with me as only you could be.
For I am a forgetful and unfaithful little heart.
But, at least for a moment,
I can offer you my sincere desire to love you,
though I fear that I hardly have the power to love at all.
But you make all things new.
Written in Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart
2025-08-22
started before noon, finished by 12:04 PM.
There he was still as a windless night,
As if adorned in the drapes of the stormy sky,
His shield covering the faintest shimmer's plight.
The candle held on to its whispering glow,
On the shores of the unending sea,
It held on in the ruthless wind's blow.
Why the ritual of protecting a such memory,
In the great winds of every new spring,
Having slightest the light of the star's treasury?
"It must live on in the dark, in the light,
It must live on in the sun, in the rain,
For she still lives, still seeks this sight."
the
candle of hope
shines bright
tonight
thus
burn
its
sweet light
of
hope
once more
with
delight
i
am
still sure
the
candle of hope
once more
Inspired to share my knowledge,
Dedicated to teach with courage,
I gave my service with all my heart—
In my students' lives, I played an important part.
Three decades of guiding the young,
These are my riches, the songs I’ve sung.
I may be a candle burning low,
But the light I gave will always glow.
Proud to shape each growing mind,
And when my time is left behind,
Please remember me not with sorrow or wrath,
But as one who lit a flicker on your path.
June 20, 2025
Maria Paz
Kindness is a candle
a flame ablaze in the heart
Its glow lights up a face ~
never be it erased
Candle glow at midnight
The hatch is locked
A scrambling splutter
As I reach for the key of circles and bolts and lines
But just as before
The circle ends
Four corners behind
And I'm scrambling again for another key
I plead the glow as I–
Well, do I cherish my existence once more?
Foot taps to the humming
Blood rushing under my skin
I'm thrown to the couch
A corner, I curb
Did I feel the end? Was there an end in sight?
My head tilts, and I
Can't quite seem to keep the colours
Steady in my mind
For better or worse, I do mind
Do I love?
I don't love, I don't love, I don't love
I don't love. I do love. I don't love. I do love.
Candle Opera
Have you ever taken time out to look up at the stars?
They shine bright from afar.
Seeing light dancing at night.
Feeling spiritually grateful all the time.
Looking up, counting your blessings.
Through an orchestra, the wind is singing.
Guidance along the path.
Growing old, time goes by fast.
Reach out and touch the flames.
Like a vivid memory that will always remain.
Water resides down a stream.
Candle Opera has a symbolic meaning.
Don’t take life for granted.
Through a song, listen to the message.
Take time out of your busy life.
From me I give you warmth in the moonlight.
I just wanted to show you my appreciation.
Thanks for giving me a chance through a colorful illustration.
You have been my inspiration till this day.
My love for you will never fade.
The candle trusted the flame,
So warm, so near, so bright.
It leaned into the dance of fire,
Believing it was light.
But love that flickers, fierce and fast,
Can scorch what seeks to stay.
Now wax runs down like falling tears,
The flame still sways,
while the candle melts away.
Soon the flame too will burn out,
For after we consume others,
So are we consumed.
Dear Future Generations,
The candle did not know whether to snuff herself out
Or begin dancing around the cemetery and give a shout
She knew she was not going to join her cousin, on walk-about
But other than that, she had a vague sense of doubt
Who do you think you are? Asked the snippy porcupine.
He was still pouting when she said he could not make her “mine”.
Candle walked off, did not give him a backward glance or time.
She was late for a date with a count who fed her lime.
The paintbrush in the corner who was conjuring graffiti
Rolled his eyes at these two, their conversations were needy
He pretended he did not care, but he had his eye on little candle too
She walked off swinging her fancy ways in the fog of the blue.
The candle had no idea how attractive she was; that is for sure.
Or how innocent, for she was white, young, kind and bridal pure.
If she had known how the handsome young paintbrush felt about her
She might have given him attention, for he was a gentleman for sure.
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