O beautiful sunshine, may you beam
On a dishevelled soul as it may seem
Reach for the deepened crevices
Let light illuminate the darkness

O beautiful sunshine, may you bathe
Upon a weepy morn that wished you’d save
Let no mossfull stone be left unturned
Let there be hope to those left spurned

you are sunshine
in human form.
i never thought looking at something so bright
could make me feel the delight that you do
when you walk into a room.
usually, staring at the sun would hurt my eyes,
but you are a safe sunshine;
rather than hurt my eyes you manage to widen them as i'm in awe of you,
which,
in my opinion,
is better than the sun could ever do
when my dark clouds roll through and even the sun casts a shadow on me,
you somehow manage to pull me
under your safe-sunshine umbrella,
because no matter the weather,
yours is always up and welcoming
you leave everyone else questioning
how you outshine the sun.

Mornings and sunshine
Your hair is sublime
Crazy and tasty
You're ****, I'm needy

Under the garment of winter,
I see sunshine,
new dawn,
tulip flowers,
melody birds,
and a hint of spring breezes.

waiting to be awakened by
an act of kindness,
a murmur of prayer,
an innovative idea,
the song of life,
and the whisper of love.

Hussein Dekmak

Copyright

i am the honeybee,
maker of the blood of the sun
i dip into the flower
and adorn myself in dusty light

they take my liquid gold
and keep it as a delicacy
forlorn, the sun will fall
i hear the honeybee’s buzzing symphony

just holding him in my arms,
i feel the broken pieces of myself
making peace with being broken
and learning to hold themselves together

that first kiss, i felt myself implode
and new roots took place, rebuilding;
rosy lips bloomed flowers within me
turning my head towards the sun

his hands became the cornerstone
of all my new foundations,
fingers slotted together like framework;
destiny drew our blueprints, heart-dotted i's

swooping curls of cursive,
i'm cursing as my stomach swirls.
i'd break my wrists writing love letters
just to stare and sketch his smile's curve

Scent of pine lingers
over the deep labyrinths
beneath the trees.
Black beetles bump chests
like Sumo wrestlers
as they try to avoid each other
in the warm scratch
of detritus dark with shade.
Baby snakes lace the meadow grass
where deep sunshine heats their cold bones.
A deep hush is suspended
by the erratic leaps of pond frogs.
One sails on a limb through
water yellow and noxious as nicotine.
The day carries  its own rhythms
and paints them on a peaceful canvas.
Where I would love to be.