666. When morning breaks upon your sleeping face,

SONNET 666
By JH Sayyar

When morning breaks upon your sleeping face,
The sun itself seems gentler in its rise.
It learns from you the art of tender grace,
And borrows gold to match your warmer skies.

I speak your name, and silence leans to hear,
As though the world were paused in soft suspense.
The beating of my heart becomes more clear—
A rhythm shaped by love’s pure consequence.

You are the calm within my fiercest storm,
The hand I reach when shadows stretch too long.
In you, the coldest nights have turned to warm,
And even silence hums a hopeful song.

So let me love you as the stars the night—
Without a need for praise, just endless light