Serenity

Broken strands of opaline pearls, dot emerald lawns as evening falls; night lights aglow, fireflies bed down lulled by whip-poor-wills' soothing calls. Mother moon, her blue chair rocking, unfolds blush blanket-clouds to wrap wee stars in warm muffs of wonder upon the Milky Way’s broad lap. In nests of silky eiderdown earth’s smallest creatures pause and sleep, while the sun, robed in peach splendor, pillows her head on angels’ feet. The tranquil hush of purple evening brushes a breeze, soothing and cool, across the fevered brow of day, weary of men who live as fools. Copyright, July 27, 2014 Faye Lanham Gibson