Twilight
With perfect time and meter, twilight falls,
her multicolored veils sweep o'er the brink
of day in sunset's fiery amber hues,
wind cooled to damask rose and silver pink,
her sighs, the sleepy sounds that Nature makes;
trees sway in loving musical embrace.
On Heaven's doorstep angels gather in
and strain to view the beauty of her face.
Her weary head bends low upon the breast
of night, close wrapped in shawls of velvet gray:
a briefly perfect moment, suspended
for a breath, slips so silently away.
Copyright, May 25, 2014
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
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