Sonnet III

I watch Apollo move across the sky, 

drawing his chariot through heavens fire,  

under his rule the sun must burn and die, 

and in the night Apollo plays his lyre;

pink light drenches the rivers in its bliss,

and washes waterfalls with wond’rous glow,

so upon the rocks I feel twilights kiss,

and in peaceful night I am not alone;

fireflies can bring the woodland night to life,

where nymphs dance below their sparkling cover;

where the humming of the Gods brings light,

and for ev’ry girl there is a lover;

so worship the festival of the moon,

for the sun will end our fun far too soon.


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