SUN COMES STEALING

SUN COMES STEALING

Sun comes stealing, bright as a daffodil,

His fingers caressing the windowsill,
His toes doing a two-step on the front stoop.

A dainty, delicious lemon soup,
That begs of me to seize the day in all its golden radiance,
And walk in the world lost in the magic,
The rhythm and the cadence.

Sun comes stealing across sidewalk cracks,
A blissed out kleptomaniac,
Robbing the cares of my memory bank,
Lighting my dungeons so dark and so dank.

The rabbits and robins hopping on their merry way,
The tasty temptation of a sunlight souffle.

Sun comes sliding down sidewalks and gutters,
Leaving its handprint on doors and on shutters.
Sun like a model commanding the runway,
Sky up above in a gorgeous display,
Begging me to capture each minute
And drink it all in to the core of my being.
To love this sad earth and all that is in it,
Blinded with joy and a sumptuous feeling.

Sun comes stealing, hot as a pepper,
It burns to a crisp with hardly an effort,
And slows down the clamor, the maddening stampede,
Bringing the peace and the quiet we need.

Sun comes stealing, a benevolent thief,
Caressing the treetops, kissing each leaf.
Lovers dance languidly on the front stoop
Bathed in a glaze of lemony soup.
Then quick as it came, the sun fades too soon,
Dissolving like sugar in the arms of the moon.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED