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Candle

candle

In the sunroom of my life
Neighbours meet me and my wife.
But in the back my secret shrine
Is where some other candles shine.
Most have burnt out and gone dark,
One or two retain a spark,
While one maintains its steady flame,
Annoyed I donít proclaim her name.
 
Robin Helweg-Larsen

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Robin Helweg-Larsen would be pleased to hear them.

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