May. 15, 2015

Mr. Sun

The sun rises in the east
And perches way up high,
Above the ills of the earth—
Far above the skies.

It worries not for all the hype
That is down below.
But smiles and shines ever bright,
Wherever it might go.

If we were like Mr. Sun,
Our face would always glow,
And naught could crush our joy
As we travel to and fro.

Our rays would touch the life
Of every living soul
That would dare to wander
Across our path of gold.

by w. salley