Postcard from life lately

lighted candle

Sunday afternoon, and following a weekend of bad weather, rain, strong winds, I wrapped myself in my blanket in the sofa. No TV, no book, just me and my thoughts, and a vanilla candle burning, a flickering flame.

The candle gave far less illumination than the electrical light bulbs, yet it was all my eyes could take. The shapes of the furniture were noticeable. It reminded me home in days gone by, when my grandfather would bring in the firewood and we’d warmed ourselves before the bare flames, basking in the glow, sharing stories and laughing till late at night. I reached out my fingers to the baby flame to feel the warmth and with a half-smile reaching those memories…

If you are following me for a while, you know that I grew up in a small Portuguese village, lost between valleys, mountain and rivers, and electrical outages were very…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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