The shadow of pen and hand flickers on the blank page
Burning like stygian flames, consuming intent, kindling fear
Your hand withdraws, leaving virgin white unsullied
The starkness mocks, continuing to hold your gaze
As hope fades like forgotten fairies, lost in the flakes
Snow blindness strikes, cleaving the story from your mind
But in the blizzard one crystal flares, glittering like a mermaid’s scale
Waking your mind from the dark reflection of the white
Protecting the lone spark of magic in the hearth of your soul
In the dragon’s breath your visions are burnished, reclaimed
Bourne on angel wings and sung in your mothers voice
Images play again on the ghostly expanse, a film strip of your life
The child you once were steps forward, places their hand in yours
Guiding you to dip your pen in the inkwell of imagination
And cover the page in lines of narrative glistening with fairy dust
This poem was sparked by the name of the candle I have on my desk and one of the first poems I have attempted.
Kizzia Mildmay 