At the end of a blustery cloud-scud day,
With sun, spring-yearning strong.
Though eager, it yet slips slow away,
To where it night-shared does belong.

And as own reward for a job well done,
It pastel paints a grateful sky.
At day’s work end, a flare of fun,
For which it shows an artist's eye.

And it knows it has but little time,
To show what it can do.
Before down from high sky to climb,
To be elsewhere full glow anew.

For sunset marks sunrise elsewhere,
Slow rolling round the globe.
Both vanishing and arriving glare,
Putting on, taking off red’s robe.

And only when below the cloud,
Can it use its canvas base.
Encouraging them to around it crowd,
Brief employ them with glad grace.

Elegant dressed by this parting glow,
In garments never meant to own.
The sun curates their evening show,
For the duration of this loan.

But soon Earth's turn takes sun's soft sprawl,
From its setting’s spectator eyes.
Then ocean-quenched, this burn-bright ball,
Soon beyond our vision lies.

But today I saw it at its bedtime best,
This ever diligent daytime vendor.
Dusk-dreamy day going to its rest,
A sun-sinking springtime splendour.