Chanter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chanter1944) wrote2017-08-13 10:33 pm
chanter1944) wrote2017-08-13 10:33 pm
Entry tags:
orange!verse poem: Lighted Display
Posting this for free because... frankly, it feels needed.
This little light of--wait just a second.
Thirty-two individuals do not represent a single light source,
any more than they represent as many identical light sources as they number.
For example, or rather examples.
For instance:
Adrian is a humble but serviceable camp lantern.
Andi is a matchstick's vital but intimidating flicker.
Anna is scorchingly effective, metal-melting blue flame.
Quinn is a maple-fed fireball rolling yellow and orange, dancing barefoot on the ragged iron edge of the world.
Helen is the steadfast yellow harmlessness of a nursery's hallway nightlight.
Carlos is a summer night's world-welcoming porchlight.
Keith is rare predawn lamplight for singly stirring eccentrics in sleeping houses.
Sandy is the first grey-gold-rose-blue suggestion of lakeside morning.
Alain is a click! day-brightening light switch.
Terry is the eye-searing, disorienting safety of a fluorescently floodlit doorway in a street otherwise packed with shadows.
Renee is an occasionally wavering but determined pale taper candle.
Mel is a light bulb on a brand new circuit.
Lise is a blazing wooden torch of ancient and bare design.
Sister and Doc are, both simultaneously and separately, a hard-wearing flashlight and a set of charged batteries each.
Leigh is not-yet-midday sunlight sparkling on fresh water shallows.
Squirt is a joyful summer afternoon on a thousand clean water droplets.
Mary is drowsy slantwise sunbeams like weightless blankets.
Gloria is unobstructed daylight pouring through upper level windows.
Sothy is the wistful straw gold of an oncoming June evening.
And those light sources aren't so very little, really, in the scheme of things.
Jilly is a champagne fountain firecracker showering colorful sparks.
Pierre is an October bonfire redolent of dry leaves' smoke and innocent invitation.
Camilo is a thoroughfare streetlight, decades old and well-maintained.
M.J. is a Sunday morning low-burning fireplace's mellow welcome.
Meg is the soft, sensible fluorescent fixture that brings countertops and stoves into perfect visibility.
Toliver is a suncatcher prism of meticulous cleanliness and placement, refracting rainbows from three sides worth of walls.
Kendra is a miner's headlamp lancing the darkness the only way it knows how.
Jennifer is a trailside morning galloping through remnants of lingering mist.
Eric is a campfire at dusk's dancing beacon.
Louis is a burning brazier, willing haven of frozen hands.
Erin is a slow-building hearthfire raised from a spark.
Celine is warm window-light reality, and bitter winter evenings kept at bay.
No one is disputing any and all shining going on.
If you suspect that more than a few images in here came straight from yours truly's childhood... you're right.
This little light of--wait just a second.
Thirty-two individuals do not represent a single light source,
any more than they represent as many identical light sources as they number.
For example, or rather examples.
For instance:
Adrian is a humble but serviceable camp lantern.
Andi is a matchstick's vital but intimidating flicker.
Anna is scorchingly effective, metal-melting blue flame.
Quinn is a maple-fed fireball rolling yellow and orange, dancing barefoot on the ragged iron edge of the world.
Helen is the steadfast yellow harmlessness of a nursery's hallway nightlight.
Carlos is a summer night's world-welcoming porchlight.
Keith is rare predawn lamplight for singly stirring eccentrics in sleeping houses.
Sandy is the first grey-gold-rose-blue suggestion of lakeside morning.
Alain is a click! day-brightening light switch.
Terry is the eye-searing, disorienting safety of a fluorescently floodlit doorway in a street otherwise packed with shadows.
Renee is an occasionally wavering but determined pale taper candle.
Mel is a light bulb on a brand new circuit.
Lise is a blazing wooden torch of ancient and bare design.
Sister and Doc are, both simultaneously and separately, a hard-wearing flashlight and a set of charged batteries each.
Leigh is not-yet-midday sunlight sparkling on fresh water shallows.
Squirt is a joyful summer afternoon on a thousand clean water droplets.
Mary is drowsy slantwise sunbeams like weightless blankets.
Gloria is unobstructed daylight pouring through upper level windows.
Sothy is the wistful straw gold of an oncoming June evening.
And those light sources aren't so very little, really, in the scheme of things.
Jilly is a champagne fountain firecracker showering colorful sparks.
Pierre is an October bonfire redolent of dry leaves' smoke and innocent invitation.
Camilo is a thoroughfare streetlight, decades old and well-maintained.
M.J. is a Sunday morning low-burning fireplace's mellow welcome.
Meg is the soft, sensible fluorescent fixture that brings countertops and stoves into perfect visibility.
Toliver is a suncatcher prism of meticulous cleanliness and placement, refracting rainbows from three sides worth of walls.
Kendra is a miner's headlamp lancing the darkness the only way it knows how.
Jennifer is a trailside morning galloping through remnants of lingering mist.
Eric is a campfire at dusk's dancing beacon.
Louis is a burning brazier, willing haven of frozen hands.
Erin is a slow-building hearthfire raised from a spark.
Celine is warm window-light reality, and bitter winter evenings kept at bay.
No one is disputing any and all shining going on.
If you suspect that more than a few images in here came straight from yours truly's childhood... you're right.
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