Poem: The Candle

A candle’s but a simple thing,

It starts with just a bit of string.

Yet dipped and dipped

With patient hand,

It gathers wax upon the strand

Until, complete and snowy white,

It gives at last a lovely light.

Life is so like that bit of string,

Each day we do a simple thing,

Yet day by day if on life’s strand

We work with patient heart and hand

It gathers joy,

Makes dark days bright,

And gives at last a lovely light.

by Clara B. Thurston