Rising Sun and a resin Sun,
dappling this world like a marigold varnish
whatever I'd give for a paint brush
to slather it all in such light.
To have only happy reflections,
no doubts upon introspection
and when you open up those cabinets
the discoloration inside is gone.
To look in the mirror with window eyes
and a door for a mouth to release the words
and stern-set nose like an oriel,
and a will declared like a waiver-
couldn't life be better,
if only for marigold varnish?
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