The scalding water
Streams over my sleepy shoulder blades,
Melting away the drowsiness
That covers me like candle wax.
The early morning washes over me,
Reluctant though I be,
For in dreams I was the tallest candle.
Now the heat distorts my shape
As water shoots from my wrinkled fingers,
Extending, sparkling, to the shower floor below,
And pooling there around my toes.
Steam rises, soporific-
Coating the room in dreamy droplets and mist,
Damp and humid,
And slowly lulling me back
Into my sleep-like state.
The water pounds against my body
In an almost rhythm,
Soothing, smoothing,
Melting, molding.
Awake! Awake!
The sun peeks down,
Touching my tip
And awakening my wick.
I soak in the new day,
A candlestick with a single flame.
A little bit smaller
With each kiss of the sun,
Awake, awake!
The wax will run.
Each weary morning
Til my work is done.
Streams over my sleepy shoulder blades,
Melting away the drowsiness
That covers me like candle wax.
The early morning washes over me,
Reluctant though I be,
For in dreams I was the tallest candle.
Now the heat distorts my shape
As water shoots from my wrinkled fingers,
Extending, sparkling, to the shower floor below,
And pooling there around my toes.
Steam rises, soporific-
Coating the room in dreamy droplets and mist,
Damp and humid,
And slowly lulling me back
Into my sleep-like state.
The water pounds against my body
In an almost rhythm,
Soothing, smoothing,
Melting, molding.
Awake! Awake!
The sun peeks down,
Touching my tip
And awakening my wick.
I soak in the new day,
A candlestick with a single flame.
A little bit smaller
With each kiss of the sun,
Awake, awake!
The wax will run.
Each weary morning
Til my work is done.
The more light the candle gives the less of it remains.
ReplyDeleteThat's an awesome idea! I had not thought of that, but it goes perfectly with this idea :) I might end up editing my poem. Thanks!
Delete