Sunny Vader—
Little known cousin
of that dark villain Darth.
Hippy love child,
born of the stars.
She dances to the
music of the spheres:
a galactic gypsy,
with nebula daydreams,
and starfire drum circles.
Her days are like diamonds;
crystal pure and sparkly.
Her nights are as rubies;
molten and incandescent.
Sunny delights—
at the rumble of the thrusters,
rocketing her tumbling through space.
The hum of a phaser,
her pink light saber,
both put a smile on her face.
Her helmet’s adorned
with flowers and paisleys.
Her gloves are both sequin lined.
And when she puts on her black platform shoes;
she always has a good time.
Each year in the spring,
as Darth roams the galaxy,
sowing his chaos and violence—
Sunny sips a nice absinthe,
makes sachets of hyacinth,
and funkily bides her time.
Summer is when Sunny begins to shine,
leaving the Jawas and Sand-folk behind;
skipping the heat of Tatooine,
hitching a ride in a limousine—
sharing a seat in the stretch spaceship,
hopping the galaxy with the cool and the hip.
She’s Sunny Vader—
Peace.
Love.
And may the force be with her.
~FS
Prayerful Life 