Dawn rises with a golden glow,
an endless field of wheat shimmers with warmth.
The ocean of lights, the shore of flowers,
the sun casts me in resin.
The tide of my time is a young rebellion.
The sweat of youth dries under breeze.
Spring delicacy, my April lover is the sun,
she dresses in petals.
By my birth, I have won the right to tenderness.

jacksonestepholbrook@gmail.com

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