Scores of candle-colour blooms in homes and round the globe; love dust dripping from candle wick enticing and bewitching; dripping and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Making candles with skilful fingers is like holding a rose on a stem of thorns; protective gear is all that it demands skimming fat from animals’ hide; spurting perfume from all shapes and hues; evil spirits no longer in the dark and mosquitoes take hasty flight; so there, I can rest and pleasant thoughts in the head tossing and turning and enjoying my king-size bed.
© Paterika Hengreaves
Comments in English appreciated.
ReplyDeleteThank you and have a great day.
Hi ShilaLong
ReplyDeleteIs this what your comment is saying according to Google's translation?
ShilaLong Carmen said ...
Love is an invention of the need to constantly improve.Only, this is not the same invention and other inventions, it does not franchise, will be snatched away at any time. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .