Ages Flicker In The Hot Fire Poem by Gert Strydom

Ages flicker in the hot fire
where I sit in the bar
time passes slowly hour-by-hour,

my face reflects in the glass, somewhat confused
the flames jump bright orange, blue and white,
ages flicker in the hot fire

with shades playing on the wall of the fireplace
and deeper something fries like on a spit,
time passes slowly hour-by-hour

someone complains about his wife, wants to hire prostitutes
while a couple sit down at a table with a candle,
ages flicker in the hot fire,

outside the thunder bashes down, my whisky is very expensive,
the candle in front of me burns down to its end,
time passes slowly hour-by-hour

then I see you, pretty and my match
I cannot avoid your eyes,
ages flicker in the hot fire
time passes slowly hour-by-hour.