Powerless Musings.

Sitting in candlelight I, absently Minding the clock, wonder why candle glow Is no more considered good light, and meant Solely for romantic nights. Flames glowing, Now engagingly chase colourful hues With flickery light. I easy prepare A small meal, sew a seam, then start doing Washing by hand, but, could I have been there Before advent of electrified light I too might have dreamed of washing machines, Or yearned for T.V. or 'phone, and even might Have cleverly invented powerful schemes Of my own. I turn from the sink, and sigh! When will this power, disabled by storm Be recovered? I can then make reply To unanswered, faraway friends, who form By now an image of me as carelessly Rude. Candlepower, never the same, no future Can claim over click-button ease. Depressed, Now I turn and start hugging Computer! So, confessing addiction to modern means, I will only use candles to weave my dreams.