In the Whispering Night
by Michael R. Burch

for George King

In the whispering night, when the stars bend low
till the hills ignite to a shining flame,
when a shower of meteors streaks the sky,
and the lilies sigh in their beds, for shame,
we must steal our souls, as they once were stolen,
and gather our vigor, and all our intent.
We must heave our bodies to some violent ocean
and laugh as they shatter, and never repent.
We must dance in the darkness as stars dance before us,
soar, Soar! through the night on a butterfly's breeze:
blown high, upward-yearning, twin spirits returning
to the world of resplendence from which we were seized.

Published in Songs of Innocence (Issue 3, Spring 2000), Romantics Quarterly (Vol. II, Issue IV, Winter 2003)

Keywords/Tags: romantic, romanticism, whispering, night, stars, hills, flame, meteors, sky, lilies, shame, souls, stolen, ocean, sea, butterfly, breeze, twin, spirits, returning, heaven, resplendence

Dust
by Michael R. Burch

Flame within flame,
  we burned and burned relentlessly
    till there was nothing left to be consumed.
    Only ash remained, the smoke plumed
  like a spirit leaving its corpse, and we
were left with only a name
ever common between us.
  We had thought to love “eternally,”
    but the wick sputtered, the candle swooned,
    the flame subsided, the smoke ballooned,
  and our communal thought was: flee, flee, flee
the choking dust.

Keywords/Tags: dust, ash, spent flame, smoke, spirit, corpse, common, name, divorce, separation, parting

Fascination with Light
by Michael R. Burch

Desire glides in on calico wings,
a breath of a moth
seeking a companionable light,

where it hovers, unsure,
sullen, shy or demure,
in the margins of night,

a soft blur.

With a frantic dry rattle
of alien wings,
it rises and thrums one long breathless staccato

and flutters and drifts on in dark aimless flight.

And yet it returns
to the flame, its delight,
as long as it burns.

There's a longer version of "Fascination with Light" that adds the following stanza:

And still it returns on incessant wings—
ruthless grey monarch of the night air.
It flutters and stares
with huge primitive eyes, and it sees
beyond ruinous nights
to all the loveliness inherent there;
and it sings all the hideous despair
of its unworthiness, in a frenzy of wings;
and its desolate womb holds incurled in silk
the husks of dread kings and pale lovers.

Keywords/Tags: desire, passion, lust, moth, flame, light, attraction, wings, flight, night, delight, ecstasy

The streets were bare and the moon was out.
Stars shined in the blackness of night, and the little girl held a candle.
A dull candle, with no fire giving it burning life.  
Her hands trembling in the cold, every breath she inhaled a wave of ice.
Her lungs straining to keep up the rhythm.
In, out. In, out.
Her hands shaking, her body trembling with fear of the great darkness.
Memories of the warmth she once felt tore her heart.
A bright fire once flickered on the wick of the candle, but the flame vanished in the wind.
The howling wind that came that night ripped the life from the candle.
And left the little girl to shiver in the cold, all alone.
Her eyes pleaded to all that walked by for a flame.
The warmth they felt stirred jealousy in her heart as she thought of the fireless candle.
A candle was all she had.
And without warmth, soon enough she would freeze.
Her eyes already drifting shut, her grip on the candle weakening, her heartbeat growing slower.
And people would shuffle past her and gasp, but continue on.
Nobody would help the poor little child that was dying in the cold.
For all she had was a candle.
And what's a candle without a flame?

Love
is the glowing flame,
and you melt
as it approaches

Listen,
be careful
with that flame,
or it’ll burn you
when that love
starts to sting

They’ll decide to leave you,
and you’ll remain with nothing,
but the fading ashes of that love  

You’ll lose the passing-by warmth
that once visited your frigid heart

So light up a cigarette,
and put out the ongoing fire
inside your chest with smoke