Mihael A. G. de la Montagnes

The Candle

A slender figure dressed in white
entered the darkness of the night.
No where was there ever to be
so radiant a light as she.
Upon the floor her dress did fall,
her shoulders bare; naked to all.
I lay enchanted by the sight;
finding myself in such delight
my eyes could not help but to stare
at such perfection burning there.
And at that moment in the room,
a breeze blew in uncertain doom.
Her neck and hair did slightly sway.
My hopes and dreams melted away.
Her memory, like wax remains. 

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