May God's stunning sun brighten your day,
His whispering wind, your sorrows blow away.
May His bounteous grace steer you on your way,
Until you have arrived a frontier of no dismay.
No phrase is capable of deconstructing my sighs,
For my thoughts have reached the blue skies;
Heavy enough to wet the palate of my eyes,
But I'd rather they generate that note that never dies.
With a heart so cold,
I offer my note to Sylva and Gold,
Which I believe can never be sold!