“We welcome you brother sun so fair,
Your warming smiles and soothing air,
Against our skin and barren limbs,
From sacred skies and hallowed hymns,
Of angel choirs singing winter’s lament,
With tears of sorrow as heaven sent.
 
‘Tis what the seasons ordered from on high,
The bowing of the sun, the Lord of the sky,
The grand master, the one so supreme,
The one we must obey, our life to redeem.
As summer nears, our voices can be heard,
With our lives restored
And ensuing days secure.”

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Robert L. Martin
8 months

Thank you giving me those great words to add to my poem.

Nelson D Reyes
8 months

The Sun sitting on a cloudless horizon preparing
yet another “rare” green/amber flash setting a dusk to dawn occurrence at sunrise, a cycle since antiquity that sustains the tree of life in paradise Earth sans flashes.

Like. Thanks Robert.

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