The afternoon sun,
is beaming through my window –
things are looking up.
It’s summer,
and I’m feeling alright,
because of this afternoon sun.
It’s leading me down a road,
I’ve never been down before,
yet I know I can trust.
For the afternoon sun,
like a blanket,
warm on a cold night.
There’s nothing better,
no other place I’d rather be,
can’t think of anywhere I need to be.
There is no conflict,
only peace,
a quite that can’t be disturbed.
The afternoon sun,
on a Sunday afternoon,
drifts me to sleep,
and I dream so sweet.
Lewis Walddren 