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 seems so like that bit of string,
Each deed we do a simple thing,
Yet day by day, 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.