Saturday, August 31, 2013

Night Decends - a poem

Slowly the sun seeps below the horizon,

bringing the dusky hoarseness of the day to an end.

Sultrily, dusk speaks to me in hushed tones.

"Close the day," he smoothly says,

"Slumber sweetly 'til the morn,

as new possibilities are on the morning horizon."

My eyes droop, but I do not sleep.

"What of this day?" I ask the dusk.

"My work is not finished."

As the dusk, now darkness warmly embraces me he says,

"Today is but a glimpse of what is possible - do not fret . . ."

he whispers quietly.

"But . . ." I begin.

"Shh, close your eyes and slumber," coos the night,

"Sweet dreams."

As the night softly caresses me and tucks me in,

I gently dream of tomorrow's possibilities

and the dawn of a new day.

Copyright (c)   2013   Suzannah Wolf Walker   all rights reserved