Poetry

In space beyond the terrestrial atmosphere
the sun endlessly opens its furnace doors
and at times sends heat more intense
 
which the naked eye can hardly trace
and the moon at times is romantic yellow,
sometimes more chilly white
or white with a blue hue
 
or with a solace, copper red
before it turns black
with only the photosphere
shining like a diamond ring
 
and in the evening breeze
the stars buds out, flickering
like fruit on a gigantic tree
 
but to me, you are brighter than the sun
shining at full blast,
more magical than the charming moon,
your eyes out glowing any stars
 
and the feelings that you evoke
words can hardly comprehend
even if every last one is spend.