an eye in the sky,
as the afternoon goes by,
touches the clouded horizon
at a time close to five.
it slowly recedes into the city skyline,
having caused all the heat it can,
as a slow sea breeze decides to whine,
the eye i can look into,the power sign.
as people see it fit to come out,
as the vendors start to sell and shout,
as the traffic honks its bout,
the eye flunks into the crimson mouth.
as its presence slowly lulls by,
as the throngs break a sigh,
the gods of shopping get on ale high
and the lost intensity is set right.
what i still can see though,
as the sea breeze- winds blow,
is that the sun still shows,
that earth is its show.
one domineering power,
which can be hidden by cloud-shower,
(who's source is the hotter)
is the only princely ruler.
the moon calms ,
unseen and unheard,
it is too cool to hurt a bird,
it remains a loyal jester.
