Without a Sound

A poem of what I think people thought the sun was in mythology times.

READERS: I am planning on entering this poem for the magazine Cricket. What do you think of the title and the overall poem? Tell me what you like and dislike in the comments below. Thanks!


A blazing orb
Suspended by unseen hands
Creeps over hills
Signaling the waking
Of creatures everywhere

Dancing across blue
Never ceasing
More intense with every hour
Its rays burn down

The blue is streaked
With brilliant pinks and purples
Creatures return to their homes
For dark hours

The ball of fire
Slips into lapping waters
Without a sound.