“Sunshine over a Golden Gate”

Morning lifts the curtain blue—  
a hush over the restless bay—  
and sunlight, shy, comes breaking through  
to paint with brush of molten ray.  

The Golden Gate, with cables red  
in majesty across the spume,  
receives the dawn upon its head:  
a burnished crown dispelling gloom.  

Mist pours in, silver-tipped with light,  
while gulls ascend in looping dance;  
below, the city wakes to sight,  
its hills aglow in gold’s expanse.  

Steel and promise, arching bold  
above the tide’s eternal song—  
sunshine streams, a thread of gold  
binding ages, swift and strong.  

Here wonder rises with the day,  
and fog retreats without a sound;  
where hope and sky have found their way,  
and sunlight makes the Gate renowned.  

So let the shadows fall and fade,  
and set your spirit sailing free;  
for sunshine over Golden Gate  
means all the world is yet to be.

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