Raise My Hand

You didn’t call on me today

when I was raising my hand.

Your eyes glided away,

my gaze at you was dripping

on my lap. Remember,

we are candles - not lamps -

swirling whirlpools of fire.

Chemical flaws don’t follow

any laws, but gravity. You

burn free, and others see

your blaze, blind

to the timid flickering

reflected in your blushing face,

as your melting feet

take a powerful stance.

Fiery wings tend to wear down,

the faster, if they’re battling

repressive winds. At times,

you may feel bleak; you need

another taper to

ignite your flames. I

struggle to collect my thoughts,

and raise my hand

while your lips enlighten

people’s minds. Strands 

of my soul’s web extend

to touch your glaring glance.

Remember, we are candles -

not lamps.

Reviews

[FIN]

You have a beautiful style of composition, that I've read thus far.

The storyline of a student and her professor was well depicted and the tension between the two well evoked.

I also quite enjoyed the vocabulary of the piece, you have some very, nicely written lines here.

Well done, Ms. (Mr.)?Anonymous, well done.

Much love,

LR