The Oriental Lamp

The copper curl,

A teepee’d top,

The glass below a lemon drop,

It’s odd the way the brass wires

Hold the odd shaped sphere,

And deep within the flame flickers,

Like a firefly trapped,

In its crystalline cage,

Shine forth,

Erotic light on wood and cobblestone below,

Eerie shadows creep,

Darkened secrets keep,

As sovereign, silent souls

Wander warily,

Toward your beacon.


April 28, 2011

Peter Lowell Paulson