2/20/11

On a table in my parlor,

There a half-spent candle sits.

You were with me, sitting near me, when at first its flame was lit.

Now, your presence, but remembrance,

Yet, this candle still burns bright.

How can something so ephemeral outlive so strong a light?

Still, time passes and the wax drips,

As this too shall be consumed.

And though countless of its brethren may illuminate these rooms,

You’ll be with me, sitting near me,

Basking in the fire glow,

Of my love that lasts forever after all lights come and go.