The Sun
A poem about the sun’s effect

I open the window and see the lustrous effect of the sun seeping through almost reaching a glimmer of hope.
It lingers on my skin glowing brightly a cure you cannot ignore.
I walk outside sit on a bench. My garden’s alive, a freshness thrives igniting my senses, illuminating that ache that ponders my insides.
Flowers blooming, red roses blossoming, Lillies and tulips in disarray. A glorious day, a wondrous place, a joy as the air leaps onto my face.
The slight breeze, the warmth from the sun deeply persists, glistening upon my aching limbs, delivering heat onto my shoulders, a radiant light of hope.
An escape to the outside away from others as I listen to the birds' tweet enjoying a cheerful, jovial, beaming, as the sun’s rays heal a desolated body, heal misery amongst our slump, our decline as we aim to reach a despondency of time, as the sun is our only hope.
A miracle healing of the sun’s respondent foe. A rival killing species away from our bodies during a pandemic, a crisis of the past two years diseases we cannot control.
©️ Denise Larkin 2020. All Rights Reserved.
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