Wasted Words From the Mouth of a Fool
If the sun is up too early,
I’d push it way back down
And when it runs away too fast:
To the moon, I’d lash it down,
So night was day and day were night
And forever in sunlight frisk.
Until the sole thing left to do
Is in eternal light beams,
reach to that golden disc.
Copyright © Simon Jackson | Year Posted 2010
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