The world is ours because the sun shines on it.
The world is yours because you go about it.
The world is mine so long as you are of it.
And so on fourteen times to make a sonnet.
One life is short. The world can do without it.
One world is small. The sun goes on above it.
One life is large and long, long as you love it.
And so on six more times to make a sonnet.
Our eyes are made to like the light they get
But what delights them more than that sun’s set?
Wherever in this night your head is laid
It’s still the best thing that the sun has made.
And so on one last time to make a sonnet.
For one beneath the sun one thing outshone it.
John Gibbens
