The fuel is in its flame and it illumines the room,
My thoughts are of yesteryear,of centuries past,
Oh,we tend to look back in its atmosphere,
This Scented Candle,this fuel to the eyes,
This soft glow ,this Supermarket trolley filler,
This acquisition from the non food has more value now than some of their produce,
It’s sell by date isn’t known,and ,like its price,is not known to me.
Why,it not a market leader,it’s not ideal home,but somehow,it’s my thought magnet ,
As the damp air mixes with the canine breathe of my pets,it’s a comfort before the test of bed,
As electric lights,so bright and forthright are switched off,I linger in the scented light,
I wonder if I should allow it to glow for a while ,to soothe me,to touch my soul,
Such a simple thing a candle,but just a perfect thing too,
My sister used to have them in her home,her home that she put together on her own,
She would make her candles,make her curtains,make her cloths,
Make make make,
She would make do and mend,
.as the math and the flame exist tighter,so to my memories of people in my past who used candles exist tighter ,
As the scents of us all are remembered,this scented candle acts as an emblem for my memory tonight and it soothes me so I won’t extinguish it’s flame ,but allow it to burn bright ,
With it,the memories of my sisters candles will burn too,and I will allow it to touch my heart.
Stay burning sweet candle,sweet scent of the night.