The Sun Pouts
I wish I could fly
On the wings of an angel
Cross the vast ocean and sky
To where you're stationed.
Your work must be done
We know this without a doubt
The public good be done, but
The sun seems to pout.
Puffs of cutting clouds
Have dampened its smile so bright
For it's been separated
From the world it loves.
Even with its ache
Continues to emanate
All the light and warmth it has
True love never fades.
I wish I could fly
On the wings of an angel
Cross the vast ocean and sky
To where you're stationed.
By CarolineCécile
March 4, 2011.
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