"THE SUN"
by Becky Hemsley
by Becky Hemsley
The sun wakes up each morning
And she combs her fiery hair
She sometimes holds the clouds aloft
So we don’t see her there
A never-ending 9 to 5
And ticks off all her jobs to do
Like keeping Earth alive
She’s busy every moment
Working hard behind the scenes
But you tell her she does nothing
For you judge by what you’ve seen
You criticise the grey sky
And you curse the dampened day
You moan it’s cold and dreary
And the sun’s the one to blame
And it’s only when she’s setting
When she’s off to work elsewhere
That you all-a-sudden recognise
The colours in her hair
See, the saddest thing of all
Is that she’s been here all the time
But you’ve failed to see her beauty
‘Til she’s fading from the sky
*****
This poem is from my first collection
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