Curse
Strange large oval, enormous blotter of dreams,
Persistent, insistent on being noticed
Peddling your wares, desirous of praise
The passersby turn their heads upon your golden scepter and marvel at the
heat dispensing orb. The alabaster clouds seek to diminish you, and yet you vaporize them all. The earth is scorched. You don’t care.
You proud, haughty vagrant
Wandering the earth, calling waves, spilling blistering heat, infernal arrogant and grand, you parade around the heavens as if you own them.
And yet all things praise thee, look upon you as the giver of life itself. So, carry on, sunshine, carry on.