Sun

(Photo Credit - Vitalsurge com)

The Sun’s beaming smile

Bathes the plains with gold.

Lord of the heavens,

Circled by your sons

We call planets,

Your searing heat

Keeps us warm

And well.

 

I love the summer

With those shiny beaches:

Radiant reflections

Kissed by sky-blue surf.

 

Sun, you are a surge of nuclear bombs

Devastating the darkness,

Destroying the frosts of outer space.

 

Blindingly beautiful

Yet you redden evening clouds:

Red sky at night delight

Indeed.

 

Ball, orb, sphere, call you what you will,

Sol if you prefer.

The pale moon mimics you

Even blocks you at times,

But you are never eclipsed for long.

 

The sky is your playing field

Though the starry crowd is hidden

From your fiery light.

 

See the sky brighten

Just before dawn,

Then witness the birth

Of another fine day.

 

Paul Butters