Sonnet: The Candle

[torquill]

Clear and warm, unwavering, upright still
The candle burns within, and disregards
All storm and tempest weathered by the will,
No need of walls built round the soul to guard;
The flame endures, and shines in endless dark
A twin to any star, though gentler light,
As much the guide to every wand'ring bark
As that which spurred a bardic pen to write.
It burns alone, but when infrequent comes
The cup of friendship, clean and free of art,
The light is caught and there the flame becomes
A tiny sun, to cheer the days apart.
No other fire need prick the depths of night;
The breath of life dost keep the candle bright.