Birthday Candles

Geoffrey Johnson

The candles lit were seven
That crowned my birthday cake;
My young heart sang to heaven
To see them shine and shake –
And then it sighed, desiring
That seventy more were spiring
From the table's polished lake.

Why want so, why complain so?
My mother fluted clear,
I wish they could remain so
And keep us ever here –
You warm against my shoulder
And none a moment older
Than now, my foolish dear.

Candles tonight how many
Would match my years now fled?
I had rather not have any –
Yet burn just one, to shed
The glow of long-lost faces
From far-off childhood places,
Then light me to my bed.