The Chandelier

I stood and watched the light, entranced by its show
of curvy gold rods, smooth blown glass
with delicate garnishes, a wide copper halo
suspended precariously from the wooden beam above
by a dainty silver chain.

The fine antique light gives an ancient mien,
a rich luster emanating from depths of frosted glass.
The still light shimmers, casting bright reflective shadows
of odd shapes and angles against the ceiling and floor,
full of pure color.

White stone walls twinkle warmly, the room ablaze
from miniature bulbs of precious soft glass.
Outside looking in, windows sparkle with light,
the room internal illuminated
in gentle dignity.

The light is a moon with a decorative touch
wearing a face that radiates presence.
Its elegance presides over the old stone house,
a visage of strength and gratitude
with spirited eyes.

Classic luminescence defers all gloom
as a concerto ensues from behind round glass.
Harmonic dust stirs beams of subtle tones
performing a glistening melodic scale
and fading into memory.

I stood and watched the light, entranced by its show
of curvy gold rods, smooth blown glass
with delicate garnishes, a wide copper halo
suspended precariously from the wooden beam above
by a dainty silver chain.

Copyright Mallery December 2002