sunflower

When dawn doth break, and night’s dark veil is torn,
The sunflower wakes, its golden face reborn.
Like her, whose beauty graces morning’s light,
And turns my heart from shadows of the night.

Her visage fair, like petals kissed by morn,
A radiant bloom, where love and grace are sworn.
In her, the sun’s own warmth and light are worn,
A beauty rare, by nature’s hand adorned.

A kiss of love, as gentle as the breeze,
Her beauty, caressed by the sun’s honeyed lips.