Flying High

Flying high, keeping pace with the end of the day,

Above thick cloud, black clumps with streaks of grey,

The sun a brilliant orb of burnished gold,

Glowing blood red oblate patches that slowly unfold,

Transient, ever changing to subtle reddish hues,

Stark like Ayers Rock against the dark sky blues,

Such a tranquil scene which blends most perfectly,

With thoughts of my beloved snuggled close to me,

As I write, the horizon turns to layered yellow-red,

Stretches to infinity, filling the senses in my head,

Experiencing such beauty, my thoughts return anew,

To how my heart and body just ache to be with you!

David I. Groves