The Lady

The Lady

With strokes of softest green,
she lays the landscape with love.
Her brush is that of creation,
her touch of God above.

Golden sunlight, tinged with pink,
she sets afire the seas.
To set a light within our hearts,
she does with such great ease.

But foul and terrible she may be,
if you dare incur her fury,
that if you cross her angry path,
you shall perish almost surely.

But we must be ever grateful,
of her endless, loving shelter,
for otherwise, at night we’d freeze,
and by daylight we would swelter.

She is the greatest artist of them all,
sorceress of finest glory.
Under her care and loving eyes,
we ever nestle warmly.

Guy Stimpson 1st February 2007