Golden fire Lord of the sky,
heroic Aten King of high,
tales of your long past abound,
all secrets kept without a sound.
Heroic fire ball flaming by,
all who challenge you fail and die,
your solar flares they burn the air,
as you travel on both true and fair.
Spitting from a fiery tongue,
but with the moon rise your work is done,
travelling through the sky by day,
but resting when the moon God plays.
Every morning when you show your face,
the moon God flees without a trace,
but we know he is hiding and shy,
then comes back again when you pass by.
Andrew Siddle / 26/07/08
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great write
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