Three Candles

born to be

three candles, restive,

splutter

aimlessly, in dance,

enclosed in red,

filter gloom within

one room,

still’d, silent

sounds below the level,

water-fed.

reflective balls

upon a surface

sounding

pops invisible,

they rise to air,

mellow’d

three-times

flutter’d darkness,

oblivion observed,

I wander there.

no one touches like

the touch of water,

submersion soft,

a sensual

soporific haze,

three candles, struck from one,

a scarlet wonder,

ending sweetly

waxen musings

on a rainbow’d melted day.

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9 thoughts on “Three Candles”

  1. The obvious apart, this is quite transcendental, as if being transported to a higher plane under some mystical spell. Then again my brain might just be frazzled – thank god for half-term! A great piece, Anne-Marie.

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  2. I’ve just finished half-term break so I’ve no excuses for floating off into the ether other than the fact that I like it there and water does the trick. Have a great break, Chris. Much needed and deserved. (I always feel a bit guilty saying that after hardly being back from Christmas holidays but I don’t count that as a break. Too manic.) A few extra days at the weekend does the trick too. 🙂

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  3. Ours, last Friday, was very pleasant which was a major surprise and nothing like the usual. It helped that someone was retiring and festivities were in order for a lovely lady. Hope you’re not bogged down in paperwork, group huddles, ‘new’ ideas and crap. You know, the usual. I much prefer it when the kids are in. They make more sense.

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