Sonnet

My friend, who's both dear and fantastic,
incorporates rhymes with his thought.
Even more than I thought, how elastic,
the bounds of what can be wrought.

Though leaving the form universal,
where rhyme doesn't matter a whit,
he well may expand the dispersal,
of that from which new hope is knit.

The sunshine brought forth that is present,
may in a new form shed its light;
with new energy grow effervescent,
thereby further banishing night.

So, new thought and new effort combine,
to accomplish deeds kind and divine.