Streaks of orange and golden pageantry,
like a chariot driven by cavalry,
in an orb made of opulent armory,
delighting everyone with your supreme scenery.

Uniquely made with fire and fury,
reaching us in eight minutes of undue hurry,
can’t get me out of bed this early, even
as your warmth is as pleasant as poetry.

Adorning the blue sky with white colored pastels,
seeking adoration for you by those blooming sunflower petals,
wake me up inside so I can draw you a mural,
maybe beam me up a vast canvas,
so I can paint one as splendidly supernatural.