Glorious Sunshine, been unfair with your rays,

Given precedence to cloudy days.

Indoors, each nerve slowly frays.

Now seen fit to amend your ways.

 

Through wooden slats you stripe my floor,

Call, cajole, beg implore.

“Come away from work that pays!

I’m Glorious Sunshine, fair with my rays!”

Scroll back time, rend the clock.

Glint off snow, eyes in shock.

Outside, grateful, nature plays.

No preference for cloudy days.

 

Thank God for yellow, orange, gold.

Your smile so bright, seems cruel and bold.

Glorious Sunshine, welcomed rays.

Now seen fit to amend your ways.