Here comes the Sun, slinking out the clouds Godfather of this earth light casting off its shroud, Casting the shroud off those whose moods set with its setting and rise with its floods, Or those whose first 'art' was inspired by the slumber and wake of this gentle giant of fire, Whose fury, unforgiving, can just as quickly destroy as its benevolence creates all life and joy. Here comes the Rain, dripping off unseen shores Angel tears, heaven faucets— countless metaphors, A being of sound and smell unlike Sun, its antithesis (?) But like it can nurture or make all perish; Such beauty, such poise, this lady's voice Her mere presence plays with hearts touching unseen strings in gentle harps, Mother of poetry and storms the ocean's first-born. Here come the Stars, oft overlooked for the moon Long dead, still twinkling in the sky's black cocoon Dagger wounds in dark dresses holding firmly in their embrace you, and the secrets that dwell behind that face, For the stars were how we first learned of poetry Diamonds in the sky, corpses burning for eternity.
4th April/ (3/30)/ Childish rhyming verse
Featured image: CD painted by my sister
Charlie and the cerebration factory 