He glanced fleetingly,
unintentionally,
at the sun, and saw
an apple, covered by
a veil of golden threads
crossed by yellow rivulets
of molten metal
and surrounded by
a white-hot corona
of fiery rays.
But the apple beneath this
splendor
still showed its redish skin
and a bite in its side,
made by crooked teeth,
and he realized that
either he was stark raving, or
God needed an orthodontist.
Bluster & Absurdity 
Hi Dad sorry for the late response to your poem. I actually have read all the poems on your blog. However I have not responded on your blog in the comment section because it says you need to subscribe to do that.