sunflowers turn their heads
away from their father:
both to sulk in shame, and to cast their swollen faces
upon the one who transcends them

a vision of yellow
with flowers on her feet
in the rising heat,
hair reflecting a halo.

i feel like writing poetry, i tell you.
i am inspired by your
essence, your presence
and the sunflowers watching from afar

a sparkle bringing even more light
to your face, tells of a mirrored love
and the waves wash over me
more content than contentedness itself.