They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street.
Squeezing through wooden creaks of old wooden houses,
They cause warmth where they meet.

Breaking past dark cloudy skies of dawn,
peeping in our lives erasing many a storm,
Treasure them, worship them for they stay not long,
Come winter, for them we shall mourn.

Each window we open wide,
Each leaf we rustle aside,
Their warmth envelopes us time and again,
As we welcome them on wet terrain.

Camouflaged under cosmetic screens so dear,
Tans, wrinkles, ailments you fear,
You call them stern, harsh sunshine rays,
I christen them my path to glorious days.