He fancied himself the sun

For the world spun around him

Didn’t that make him

The centre of the universe

Even the birds came to him

Like parishioners to a cathedral

Seeking shelter in a place

Where walls were safe

And echoed with sound

But all here was quiet

Their song stilled

Surely that must mean something

The flame receded

From his little candle

It wouldn’t last long

Held like a prayer

He blew it out

With a wish

Let there be light

Words: ©2023LCR
Image: "Vigil" by Laura Makabresku 

Prompt: The Sunday Muse #245 - I haven't submitted to the prompt site as I'm just getting my feet wet again but I did want to dip my toes in and this image spoke to me. 


  1. Where are you? I miss your poetry!

    1. I'm here. I just lost my mojo and I miss my muse. I'm sorry if I worried you. I've missed your poetry too.


Post a Comment

Thank you for taking the time to read and comment!