Concrete Poem.

Candle_flame_(1)

A friend inspired me to write “a concrete poem” after she handed one to me for my Birthday, instead of a Birthday card. For those of you who don’t know, which I didn’t, but now I do, a concrete poem is a poem in the shape of the object it describes. Her poem to me was a swirled cup of tea. I thought it was a perfectly creative way to give someone a gift, which for me meant a box of lemon tea. Quite beautiful, artistic, and you can literally write about ANYTHING. Which, I am good at after re-reading some of my very random blog topics. So, I attempted this new form of writing, and started with something I love, though they are quite simple in shape.

    L
I
        G
           H
T
The   way   it   flickers   to   and  fro
Like  the   twinkling   stars   I   used
To  watch when  I  lay on the sandy
Beach.  It  invites  soft conversation
And long kisses. Just imagine sitting
In a dark room, with a  book, a lamp
And the soft light, flickering  neither
Here,  nor  there.  Like the twinkling
Of   stars.  As  old  as time itself. Yes,
I  whisper.  I   can  hold  your secrets
In the night. Shining brightest in the
Darkness. I flit and fly. Like a firefly!
Or   is  my  light  more  like  a dance?
Flirting  with   the   shadows   I  make
On  the wall. Even so, with the flying
And  the dancing, I boldly stand. I’m
Strong  against  the black all around.
Sweet  smelling.  Soft  dripping.  Try
Dipping   your   fingers   in   the   wax
That builds on my smooth sides. The
Wax  that  casually  nips  your   finger
Tips.  Keep me  around  I say. Do not
Snuff  me  out.  For when you do, the
Transparent  smoke   that   rises   will
Last  but  a  moment  before Disappe-
aring. And it will all be just a memory.
Especially when I am sitting on top of a Birthday Cake. The
Wish that you thought before pursing your lips and letting out the
Stream of air that whisked away my soft light. It is all a memory now. Puff.
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