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Sol Mother

By Wil C. Fry, April 19, 2000, 13:00

Copyright © 2000 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.


Distant, large, yellow and warm
Giving light to the life on the farm
Nuclear, gaseous, brilliant and hot
And from her, directions can be sought
Absorbing, illuminating, we are dependent
And I canít believe I am a defendant
Dangerous radiation, a harmful ray
Not right now, maybe someday
Some celebrate the solstice
    some hide from the rain
I just live for any weather
    for it is not Nature that brings me pain
Simmering, searing, I say bring it on
Never fear, however, the day is almost done
The Indian wind, a Gypsy breeze
Sometimes, itís all just a tawdry tease
Without the Sun, there would be no ease
Still, our mother Sol hangs above the trees



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