Aura of Delight
The flotilla of the climbing clouds slowly slides away
across the smoky screen shifting from the twilight sky.
The beguiled birds bathe in the dome of the blushing bay,
in the flushing gleam of ambiance to their nest they fly,
as the fall arrives with crystalline splendor on the sly.
The transparent threshold of the halcyon horizon
splits the spreading sunbeam in the spectrum of hued spray,
sparkling shades spilling from its palette paint the dawn.
Bowed down slender blades of garnet grass sway
on the lap of maroon meadow in rippling air drifting away.
The pasture wears the ornate diadem of diamond dew,
flickering with the finesse of dulcet dawn’s chromatic glow.
Lining the sun-burnt cinnabar garden path paved anew,
dry trunks of defoliated trees stand on the soil fallow,
the gilded leaves rustle with the steps of hot days departing slow.
As the setting sun sets fire at the fringe of the serene sky,
making surreal celestial collage of vermillion ember bright,
under its crimson radiance my saturated spirit soars high,
as it perceives the mellow day drown in color cove out of sight,
the painting of Monet suffuses me with the aura of delight.
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