Our Sun beats down, its rays so strong,
It heats this earth, where we belong,
Ripening to gold the waving corn,
Rising up high to start the morn.
Its sunshine pleasures all it greets,
And brightens so, our darkest streets.
With warmth it transforms a frosty day,
And bright beams sweep the gloom away.
Oh, ball of fire, shine radiant for me,
And all your famed glory, let me see.
© Ernestine Northover
Another brilliant piece with a romantic touch. Rhyme and rhythm flawless.Traditional poets like me are proud of you!
I liked this poem very much, wonderful subject matter and use of imagery. Andrew x
I'll join in this lovely hymn, Ernestine, for I similarly languish for its fire. Lovely. Susie xx.
This is a lovely portrait work Ernestine. You handle rhyme very well and avoid being sugary about it. I like the celebration of a new begining. The optimism is infectuous.
in the words of George Harrison, here comes the sun and I say, it's alright.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The beauty in your words, maybe warmth enough, we can only lay back in their shine and admire Love Duncan X