The Sun perched herself up this morning-
As a Golden-Yellow bouquet-
Beams spreading like sweet-honey cone-
As she announced, a brand new day.
Warmth breezes herself, effortlessly-
As higher and higher, she goes-
From the Eastern Orient Realms-
To: 'The High Noon, ' she heartfully glows.
Bouncing Her Light and Heat-
E'er outward and upon-
A nation 'tis in need of her-
Come hither or come yon.
But natured, in such a degree-
Perhaps, we are needing Her less?
As, our icebergs, are really melting-
And Global Warming, has confessed!
Still, i cannot imagine one single moment-
Devoid of Her sweet-butter rays-
Be it in the crisp brisk of Fall-
Or the warming Spring-Summer of May!
Theodora (Theo) Onken
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sun-18/
