Up high,

Proud and malicious,

Master of a cloudless sky,

Sits an arrogant sun.

Staring down, it sears all that dare to tread this ground,

Crafty lizards burrow,

Scorpions come alive at night,

And leave the light to other fools.

Yet many, many

Leagues away,

The sun will not arrive today,

Or, for many months.

Deep within these frozen wastes

The slumbering tundra waits.

Yet, in another far off land

Lovers lay upon the sand

Soft warm hand, in soft warm hand,

Bathing in the sun's soft bliss,

They deign to steal another kiss.

Our father sun has many faces,

Changing moods in diverse places,

But lovers glow within its rays

As fingers dance

And warm lips play.

                                                 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn