O Sun, hanging from an April sky, to you I carry this question: how many mornings have you emerged coyly, peering through the fluffs of cloud, wondering if I am taking a stroll toward your beloved sunflower? I have felt your warmth sheltering me with ardent curiosity as I followed the trail to the garden, and I am here to inform you that yes, she reciprocates your feelings.
The sunflower is enamored of her sun. Whenever the white clouds rush to tuck you in their embrace, she wilts a little. The sunflower has confided in me that she is in love spring because it’s the only season she gets to feel your golden rays for longer hours. She’d shun the moon if she could! And if the wild sunflower were to wish anything, it would be for you to be forever towering her with your gleam.
WARS & CALAMITIES 