When power begins its
Annual weakening
And shadows grow longer,
The rays begin to sag.
The sun grows weary
Of holding up the daisies.
As its arms get tired
And eye lids become heavy,
It begins to yawn.
Sleep is the new paradise
As the land of dreams take over.
As the sun floats
Upon the horizon,
It gathers strength
For the up and coming
Springtime when it will
Employ itself to hold
The daisies up again
And stand up proudly,
High in the sky.

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Nelson D Reyes
about 2 years

“Merrily merrily merrily merrily
Life is but a dream”

Like. Thanks Robert.

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