She was like the sun,
Or so I thought.

As I set my eyes awide,
She was more than what met the eye.

A bed of moss with dewdrops and white flowers,
Underneath a gentle spring morning, she sat.

Troubled wind gushing over autumn leaves,
She dances wildly over a carpet of hues.

Silent rain with sorrow pours unbidden,
She finds her shelter on boughs awaiting a gentle pause.

Of all the facades she may hold,
I see her a little, through the cracks of the mask.

For the first time ever,
Seeing this girl of yellow hue,

She was like the sun,
As my soul had seen her all along.

She attracted, tolerated,
illuminated and controlled everything around her,
And I was happy to be at her mercy