When the bully sun tires of
starlight and moon shadows,
he grips the horizon and
thrusts himself into day,
snatching up stars and
Shouldering night away.
He obliterates gentle twinkles
with sharp shafts of daylight, and
chases the shy predawn
moody blue with rude light
and a muscle show
of morning might.
Mary, what a fresh spin on the sun and clever title! I love your verbs.
Agree with Gaby! Lovely title. Like the “shy predawn” and “rude light.”
Very interesting and unique idea. Always pleasant to see something new.
Thanks poets! I’m not a morning person, so the sun is not always my friend.
Mary,
Many poets, it seems to me, simply throw words together because they sound pretty but create images impossible to see. So it’s nice to discover a poem in which the words not only sound nice strung together as they are, but also create vivid images which enable the reader to see what you’re saying and thus experience the poem in a deep, intimate way.
Thank you for your generous comments, James. I want people to see things from my perspective for even a moment, and maybe chuckle.