Sun Poems

Popular Sun Poems
A Red Palm
by Gary Soto

You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.

That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair


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by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn


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by Elizabeth Swados

Summer sounds,
Concrete and heat,
Sneakered feet on tar,
Stepping on a melted candy bar,
Crunch, crunch
Gravel on the street,


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by Dean Young

It might have been midnight when last we talked
and now I've got this poem that keeps flying
apart which accounts under these xenophobic stars
for all force: gravity, magnetism wind, the ling-

ering of a kiss, a judo throw although
there's yet to be a single formula for it.
Save us from single formulas. One room
smells like ash, another smells like fruitcake.


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by Charlotte Brontë

A Short Poem or Else Not Say I

True pleasure breathes not city air,
Nor in Art's temples dwells,
In palaces and towers where
The voice of Grandeur dwells.

No! Seek it where high Nature holds
Her court 'mid stately groves,
Where she her majesty unfolds,


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Recent Sun Poems
Watching the Sun
by Kailey Norris

Watching the sun lengthens a single moment.
There is no regret of the past,
No anxiety for the future.
A moment of beauty
A method to “forget”.
Forget mistakes made,
Paths taken.
Forget upcoming decisions,
New experiences.


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by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Yesterday I was in the parched, red desert, where it pours only seldom,
Bearing joy for varicolored cacti blooms, a silvery shower, very welcome.
This morning I deluged the green, pathless forest, at the dawn of purple.
Tomorrow, wet footsteps will travel, down the tree-lined street of myrtle.
In wild days of ago, my fervor caused floods, as I danced in dewberries;
Then a soft, yellow sun spun rich gold, making cherries and cranberries!
While there is gladness everywhere I go, my sporadic errors humble me,
Like an errant wind which blows off course, tenacious, golden honeybee!

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Nature Stopover
by Ayatullah Nurjati

Twilight hangs over the western horizon, perfectly in sync with the natural setting
The moon is ready to replace its function as the faithful wife of the earth
The sun, which has slipped, seems to understand and is aware of its function to end the causality of its work
They never get tired of complaining about the Creator's orders, even though because of the anomaly in their nature they sometimes envelop each other. That's against their will

The Cosmic Macro Realm always provides peace
However, there are always irregularities caused by the inhabitants of the earth who are always destroying the mini world
This planet is indeed the only place suitable for visiting, although there may be other secret planets that also have inhabitants.
I am one of the millions of people who may be comfortable with the fact that the earth I live on is now old


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Our Place in the Sun
by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I was an eminent, solar physicist, like the blushing rose, craving renown.
Each butterscotch morning I drove to work, and toiled until red sundown.

The observatory was the place I loved, keeping watch on our nearest star;
Like a pale moon that sits staring all night, its gaze near, anyplace we are.

I studied intense sunspots daily, as has been done over a thousand years,
To gain comprehensive understanding, as the weatherman into sky peers.

Fantastic, fandango dawn was fond memory, when faithful friends visited,


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A Sportscar Day in Florida
by Dr. Robert Ippaso

I'm often asked by friends afar
What was that bright and shining star
That led me to this place of joy
To truly savor this, my rather special toy.

Was it the palm trees swaying in the breeze,
The cheeky Pelicans skimming waves with ease,
Florida's sun beaming brightly morn to dusk,
No need of taking weather Gods to task.


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