The Candlelight

 

A candle in a window stands,

And through the panes it glows

As early darkness shrouds the land

That slumbers ‘neath the snow.

The single flame so feeble seems

Against the dark of night,

Its golden shimmer, sparkling keen

Within a drape of white.

Yet, flame untouched by wind and chill

Still beckons warmly, “Come,

And warm yourself, and feast your fill

’Til winter’s past and gone!”