Eventide
The sand's running low,
It's near time to go;
The water is boiling away.
The shadows grow long,
A lullaby song
Is heard at the closing of day.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
