THE CANDLEMAKER.

A tragic little tale of unrequited love...

Eunice was a candle maker
In frosty Grumpham town,
She modelled wax like angels
With the tiniest little frown,
And wore a frock of flowers,
A sexy little gown.

She loved the local cobbler,
His face was so serene,
But he never saw her, sadly,
Never went where she had been,
But courted Sandra Minster
In her dress of weedy green.

"Candles," said our Eunice
"Are made to give us light,
To shine a glow for devils,
To illuminate the night,
And I am proud to see by one,
Alone and out of sight...."

She went up the stairs and wondered
Why she was so alone,
Why the cobbler fancied Sandra
Who was ugly as a crone,
And she bore her flickering candle
With a winsome little groan.

And then she winked, did Eunice,
Her fluttering eyelids flashed
And wafted on the candle,
It's guttering flame was dashed
And she stumbled on the stairway
And down the timbers crashed.

Her neck was broken sharply,
I watched her as she died,
And Eunice' spirit flickered

Where the evening shadows spied,
And the candle wax was forming
A heart-shape as it dried.

Reviews

[Marianne Rose]

I love this poem, with its old-fashioned lyrical quality and the embedded message of light to keep evil away. The irony of the candlemaker falling victim to dark forces is like a warning to all of us who carry light to be discerning and aware. We may have the light, but we are prone to jealousy and despair when we feel another has stolen our love and left us alone. The winking that she does that dashes the candle flame out- is it then her own darkness getting the best of her, and 'I'll show you'? Or is it suicide? Is it that in her anger she will now deprive all in the village of her light-like a curse? It's fun to wonder at her intentions. I love the twist, however dark, and the last part that leaves a heart of wax behind, dying of unrequited love? Thank you for an engaging and delightful read.

[Peter Rogerson]

I'm truly grateful for your review. IT means a lot to me when I'm understood.