Mistress of the Sun (Revised )

There on the threshold of the dawn when lights of night of had been outdone. His chariot was slowly drawn before the Mistress of the Sun. Her sable breath was caught by day locked in his snare, their paths aligned Diluting Earth in passion’s haze Her soul absorbed, her love entwined. From out within that Eastern sky a flirting warrior touched her face and lured a blush from maiden shy, a russet moon with fawning grace. She paused a moment, heart undone to drink the charm of Master Sun. The twilight never warmed as much as naked fire in hungry eyes while basking in his ardent touch; each new facet a sweet surprise; the way his light made her fall blind the way his warmth stayed on her mind. But Ah! The game, the Missing Game brief moments claimed while on the run her duty calls, his life’s campaign enlists the Mistress of the Sun. His light reflected dusk to dawn her own desire she could not find. In each eclipse, his shield was drawn so quick to hide, leave her behind. His meager offerings of light so often waxed and waned again, and yet her thinning heart held tight to fairy tales of princely men. A damning war of heart begun to love or hate her Master Sun. . She gave so much, he never took and took so much she never gave, his victor’s eyes too oft forsook the feelings that she longed to save. A failure’s guilt, a bitter rind, a gray, bald husk o’er heartsick mind A farewell kiss from parting lips his tantric palms on prizes won. From wells of eventide he sips then leaves the Mistress of the Sun. A mistress of the light no more ‘twas not her place in day to shine in spite she takes what he affords to taunt him with what he’d declined.