Lonely Flames

Flaming flowers dance on the sun,
Oh what it must be, to have such fun.
We never shall know the joy that is known,
To those beautiful flames as they twirl on their own.

Higher and higher, they twist and they spin,
They're mocking us quietly with fire'y grins,
But they mock us so gently it's hard to be mad,
For the pretty wee flames look ever so sad.

Their spinning and waving is nought but a show;
A game that's put on as we watch from below,
In secret, inside, their flaming hearts cry,
As they dance all alone, on the sun in the sky.