The clouds ushered the sun goodbye,
Forsaking what fleeting warmth was left.
In its exile, the living canât but cry,
Asking âis this your test?â.
âBut there is hope dwelling yetâ,
I said with unflinching fortitude.
With vigor, I promised not to fret,
Awaiting the girl, to which I allude.
I gazed upon her sillhouette,
studying each part with care.
Stopping, not to forget,
her eloquent amber hair.
In my dreams I knew,
it was all but a question of time,
âtil warmth again filled my view,
it was You, the heavenly sublime.
Alexander Valdeau, 2023-11-05
















