Shining from my open window,
Like a ray of pure gold,
Sighing a superior light,
The moon is jealous.

The waves of,
A priceless Item,
An item you can never trap,
Can never keep,
Can never have,
Can never touch,
Can never taste.

It is like the most polished gold,
But more valuable than any size,
Big,
Or small.

Still,
This ray of life
Has something,
That
Gold,
Will never find.
For this light,
Provides
Plants,
Growth,
Life.