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Le Soleil Parle (The Sun Speaks)

By Mona Wanlass

I rise, as dutifully expected
My work, for her, the focus of my mind
Dawn’s brushstrokes, as yet, have been rejected
She covets sunsets; in my own design.

My aestival canvas offers brilliance;
aureate finale to close of day.
Vernal gloam, often dabbed with turbulence
In hope to wake her flowerbeds in May.

Brumal evenings, I sketch in black and white
pearlescent backdrops shaded with dove-gray.
For her favorite, autumnal twilight
my prismatic palette on grand display.

In my descent, while struggling to remain,
Just one glance, I pray, from her window pane.

copyright 10/18/2000 Mona Wanlass  

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