I write by candle light,

While the rest of the world seems out of sight.

Astonishd by the dead of night,

Yet this candle seems so bright.

Writing whatever I please,

Suggestions drifting as if it were a breeze.

Flame twitches as if to tease,

But for now I write with ease.

To concentrate and be layed back,

All the words are right in track.

My candle guiding me through the black,

With my light I have nothing to lack.

As the pen and paper fondle,

The eire light will dwendle.

There isn’t anything left to handle,

As I sit here with my candle.