The wick is lit, the candle burns
Watch it flicker yellow bright
And there the wayward shadow turns
As it is shaped by arching light

When two tapers are abreast
And close enough to touch
Two flames merge up at air's behest
We wonder at the beauty such

Hot wax at times to earth cascades
A molten flow that hardens soon
Like stringy hair it masquerades
To end in droplets random rune

In olden times the waxen seal
Kept letters closed from prying eyes
But still the candle has appeal
For all its beauty, bright and wise