Curse 

Strange large oval, enormous blotter of dreams,

Persistent, insistent on being noticed

Peddling your wares, desirous of praise

The passersby turn their heads upon your golden scepter and marvel at the

heat dispensing orb. The alabaster clouds seek to diminish you, and yet you vaporize them all. The earth is scorched. You don’t care. 

You proud, haughty vagrant 

Wandering the earth, calling waves, spilling blistering heat, infernal arrogant and grand, you parade around the heavens as if you own them.

And yet all things praise thee, look upon you as the giver of life itself. So, carry on, sunshine, carry on.