As sound as the sun,
You would arrive in my sky,
to bring up the flowers,
and to dry my eyes.
Soon sporadic as a storm,
on a humid summer's day,
You were there and gone,
drowning out what I'd say.
The winds took me away,
and when I returned,
You were only embers,
for the fire had burned.
Enough to extinguish the sun,
by the way that it blew,
but the eye of the storm,
is watching someone new.
Though our hearth is cold,
Love inscribed your name;
in a chamber of my heart,
burns one eternal flame.
