Can the Sun be Mine?

There once was a lady
Smiling bright
Into the night and
Sparkling the shady.

She blows bubbles of gold
When she twirls, the wind glitters.
The squirrels squeak and titter.
A dream to outdazzle the cold.

People forever knew her
They basked in her glory,
Listening to her story.
Why? I am quite sure.

For when her robe of shine
Unfurls into fire
Full of hot desire
I'd love to call her "Mine".