I wander around telling tales
In the vestiges of day
I see you sitting unattended
As the sunlight fades away

I beg your pardon,
But do you have some light left in you
Or have you burned complete
Grey ash to blow away
or blackened coal that could still hold heat?

I look around for some inspiration
Something to kindle your spark
Dry bits of conversation
In the cool, encroaching dark

I watch your pleasure flare and fall
Embers caught in breath
Arching up now, from the ground
With a song upon your lips

Your warmth and light
Is so much more than simply beautiful


© William Menton

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