An Old Love

by Thomas Vaughan Jones

An Old Love Viewed
By Candlelight

That flicker finds the corner of my eye.
A golden glow that brightens up this place
then hurries, scurries through the waiting house
to rest against the sunshine of your face.

A face of somber sweetness, yet serene
in true affection, quizzical but kind.
So gentle in those tenets held so dear
that fortitude was never undermined.

When poetry has strummed its final chord
and words dissolve into eternal night,
my world will still retain that tiny glow
of your reflection, warmed by candle light.

For Sheilagh
after 50 years, 6 days and 22 hours.

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