In the Candlelight

In the Candlelight​
​
the white curtains​
lifted once​
in the evening wind,​
settled​
like a thought​
unspoken​
​
a candle flame—
scents of gardenia,​
magnolia,​
Spanish moss​
drift through the room​
​
a voice
deep and tonal​
softly calls my name​
​
barefoot I run ​
across the bedroom’s​
mahogany floor,​
grasp​
brass handles—​
​
the door opens wide—​
​
your eyes​
in the candlelight​
​
D. G. Vachal © 2026​

Image by Melanie H.H. @pixabay

4 thoughts on “In the Candlelight”

    1. Thank you so much, Ellen! I’m grateful the atmosphere of the poem reached you. There is something about candlelight that softens the world and makes the presence of another feel more luminous.

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