The Circle Of The Sun Poem by Alfred Baltimore

A crimson blush upon the eastern sky,
As dawn ascends, a whispered, gentle sigh.
The sun, a pearl, emerges from the night,
Painting the clouds with hues of rose and light.

A fiery kiss, the orb of golden grace,
Awakens earth, with warmth and gentle pace.
The shadows flee, as daylight gently streams,
And birds take flight, in joyful, waking dreams.

Across the plains, a canvas wide and vast,
Where colors blend, in nature's vibrant cast.
The rising sun, a masterpiece of art,
A symphony of beauty, from the heart.

Then, as the day begins its weary flight,
The sun descends, in fiery, fading light.
A painter's brush, across the western skies,
With hues of gold, and amethyst, that rise.

The clouds ignite, in fiery, orange glow,
As day surrenders, to the softest flow.
A final kiss, upon the distant hills,
The sun dips low, and nature stills.

The stars emerge, like diamonds in the dark,
Embracing night, with secrets to embark.
The setting sun, a whispered, gentle plea,
To rest and dream, eternally.