As twilight paints the end of day,
He sits in flickered shades of gray
Intent on watching others play
Upon the glowing screen;
But while the players take the field,
His stark surroundings are revealed
And stir an emptiness concealed
For something left unseen.
What can it be? He looks around
And listens for an inkling sound
For what continues to confound
His strangely troubled mind;
The trappings of his life are there:
A sofa, lamp, and easy chair...
All leave him keenly unaware
Of what he yearns to find.
Between his heartbeats, something calls
From somewhere down the papered halls
Where memories adorn the walls
And shadows used to dance;
When moments lit by candlelight
Would linger long into the night
While newborn passions smoldered bright
On embers of romance.
And through the years devotion burned
With flames beget of others spurnedó
Their love ablaze from lessons learned
To ease their pangs of life;
Soon candlelight was rarely seen
Above the glare of their routine,
Yet love prevailed, although unseen,
Between the man and wife.
But at this hour the two are paired
With leisures not uniquely shared,
Which normally would pass uncared
As just another night;
They hide in their respective nooksó
He with his sports, her with her books,
Deprived of smiles and knowing looks
Which sparkle with delight.
That's it! He leaps onto his feet
To find what makes the room complete,
When halfway down the hall, they meet...
She sought to join him there!
Her reading lamp adds gentle glow
To harshness of his halftime show,
And once again, as long ago,
In candlelight, they share.
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