You fit yourself into a dress,
and I cannot fit my feelings
into quantifiable size;
my eyes, dazzled, trickle with tears.
 
On the inside, you are the child
I used to delicately robe.
Ripe and wild, you externally
sew colorful hope and dreams;
 
fit into futures loosely seamed.
You trim the sky's hem; knit stars.
But no matter how far that takes you
Your heart is threaded to my own.
 
And when you tug, ends tend to totter.
Your bravery seems to outdo mine.
I need to learn to loosen up, let go,
loop knots, and neatly line tomorrow. 

Khalida:

A beautiful sentiment exquisitely expressed. You haven't lost your touch as a poet. I am so glad that you have come back to "the mule."

Joe

Nicely written KQ, I can relate in particular in the needing to let go part.

Thanks Joe and Bruce for reading and commenting. I wrote this when my daughter, Shams, graduated from highschool. Her name means Sun in Arabic, hence the title.

To be honest, one thing I feel has been lost by not being here is the want-to-write urge and the exposure to other people's poetry and criticism that makes you feel alive. So, far, writing poetry has been occassional: fits of anger or emotional moments. It is good to be back!

Khalida, we have missed your wisdom and perspective on things here at the mule. I'm glad you've found your way back.

Les

Khalida,

Yes, the inspiration of so many people coming to grips with what poetry can be for them was certainly what got me going also from 2002 to 2009.

amo et avanti,

Peter

Khalida:

One of the reasons I never strayed too far from here is the inspiration I receive from the poems and critiques of others. It does serve to inspire.

Joe

Khalida, I forgot to say how much I loved your title. What an apt tribute to your daughter.

Allahu akbar

Thanks for commenting, Peter, Les. I really miss you all and the whole being here! And yes, Jo it is very inspiring. Bruce, thanks and thanks again.