{"id":74735,"date":"2020-06-28T04:23:19","date_gmt":"2020-06-28T08:23:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=74735"},"modified":"2020-06-28T04:23:19","modified_gmt":"2020-06-28T08:23:19","slug":"homesick-candle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/homesick-candle\/","title":{"rendered":"Homesick Candle"},"content":{"rendered":"

When you miss the state where you grew,<\/span><\/p>\n

There is a candle just for you.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In the early Washington summer,<\/span><\/p>\n

You smell spring rain,<\/span><\/p>\n

Wet pine needles,<\/span><\/p>\n

Fresh blackberries for your ice cream shakes,<\/span><\/p>\n

And a blanket of wild flowers.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As I sit, middle aged, in the desert,<\/span><\/p>\n

Dreaming of mountain rain,<\/span><\/p>\n

A candle is on its way:<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It promises the smell of my mother\u2019s Earl Grey Tea,<\/span><\/p>\n

Cedar and patchouli.<\/span><\/p>\n

The vanilla and maple blood of trees,<\/span><\/p>\n

Amber and rhododendron fighting for a shaft of brief sunshine through the trees.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The citrus of bergamot trees and the musk of the wild northwest.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The candle best serves my house late at night,<\/span><\/p>\n

When a two year old might lose her way to the potty,<\/span><\/p>\n

Or my teenage pit bull may need a sip of water.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It will light up my kitchen table with memories of my childhood,<\/span><\/p>\n

While building more for my daughters.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When I open the front door,<\/span><\/p>\n

Sandalwood from desert rainfall.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When I hold them close,<\/span><\/p>\n

My vanilla body spray,<\/span><\/p>\n

and coconut shampoo.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Each strand of scent, a wall to my home.<\/span><\/p>\n

A construction of life, light and mom,<\/span><\/p>\n

Never to be forgotten.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Prompt 20, Hour 20<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When you miss the state where you grew, There is a candle just for you.   In the early Washington summer, You smell spring rain, Wet pine needles, Fresh blackberries for your ice cream shakes, And a blanket of wild flowers.   As I sit,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1329,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[3946,270,1036],"class_list":["post-74735","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-promp20","tag-hour-20","tag-prompt-20"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74735","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1329"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=74735"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74735\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":74742,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74735\/revisions\/74742"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=74735"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=74735"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=74735"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}