SUNFLOWERS

The sun was in them flowers,

A field of gold that gaze upwards,

North-east to the west and then

stoop they all went -

And left the dull ones prying.

They burst with a zesty haste

on their disks in rotation,

A cure for the morbid curse -

The celestial connection.

Perched on the stem

for a pent up ceremony,

how fine do they co-mingle

if simply let it be.

A Heaven to the eyes of the deserving.

Sophisticated ones, minds romanticizing.