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The Diamond
November 15, 2015
A cool breath of fresh air went through my hair
The sun was beating on the back of my head
Cold, harsh sweat damped my hand
My musles strained some,
But I could not rest
For there it was:
The diamond
It was no ordinary gem
For it was a pience of pure golden sunshine
When I had first laid eyes on it
I could do nothing but marvel at its awesome sight
Its brilliancy and radiancy was too much
For me to stare for long
For I must have the prize
Or else I could have died
© Brittan S., Claremont, CA
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