Holding the Sun

	The sun is burning in my hand,
	my grasp is not so strong.

	The tiny, fiery particles
	slip through my fingers like a song

	from some enchanted gypsy band,
	the lyrics frying in the sand.

	I try too late to understand
	and gather in those flaming rays

	consuming all my yesterdays.
	Tomorrow's happiness now plays

	among the cinders of the ground.
	I need to rescue from the blaze

	the pieces scattered all around,
	sing once more the gypsy song

	and hold again my sun.

Next Poem

Abstract color striations

Return to Enchantments Selection