She Is My Sun
SHE IS MY SUN
A rush of sun fills this still dim room
As spring comes to the pallid wintry land,
Waking seed in its cool green womb.
She gives me her light hand:
Makes me want to be a better man.
She is all my world. Her laughing honest eyes
Her soft voice, her hand which holds mine thrills.
She is my birdsong at sunrise,
The curved rainbow after a storm stills,
My golden orb of sun rising bright over distant hills.
And the red fire that flares within her vivid
With a hundred times the heat of the sun
Grips my heart with the fever of florid
And countless purple nights of torrid tropical motion
And embrace on the shores of the warm Indian Ocean.
……………………………………………..
Written for Francine Roberts’ MAKE ME SWOON contest.
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