The Little Lamp

I like the little lamp.

Its light hits the coners,

Just so.

Just enough to let them know,

They are welcome,

And acknowleged,

But not enough

To harass.

The light from the little lamp is peaceful.

Warm.

A soft touch of a friend,

Lightly touching your shoulder

To wake you from sleep.

It isn't like the big light at all.

The big light is overbearing.

Harsh,

And blinding.

A loud scream in your ear,

So unlike the hand laid softly

On your shoulder.

Yes,

We are friends.

The little lamp and I.

Soft and kind,

Small and mine.

Warm and reliable,

With just the right,

Amount of light.

What a pleasant,

Little lamp.