The winter sun:

An Old folk late arriver, yet a blessing too.
The night survivors, await for it till noon two.

As heat warms up the sand, air and skin deep.
My delighted heart, in attempt to look, then starts to weep.

I wonder at the Gold plated lakes and seas.
The alive world now that seemed to have seized.

Particles too seem as gold floating here and there.
The clear sky all rains but gives its sunlight share.

The world gets charged and the fruit too blush.
The naked trees all sway, to life they rush.

But as the yolk starts, to descend the sky.
Scenes all change, to homes birds fly.

All look with lust and thirst for more.
And I gaze and gaze till it's no more.