Poetry Friday: I'll Eat You, Winter Sun

It's that time of year in Boston when the sun sprints across the sky for the gold.

We've been talking about describing skin color with food metaphors, so it was interesting to note that poets also use that technique to describe the winter sun. Consider stanzas from these two poems, written about a century apart:

— by Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.

by Whitman McGowan

Outside Paris waterfalls retreated back into mountains.
God Himself became an irrelevant ice cream vendor
slowly scooping a ball of lemon sherbet
from horizon to painted horizon.

So there. I can't stop you, winter sun, but thanks to the power of a good simile, I can eat you. 

The round-up today for Poetry Friday is hosted by readergirlz diva Holly Cupala.

Photo credit: rsms via creative commons.