Few things prettier than dawn-to-dusk, in May's days...
The gilt that etched dawn’s frosted sketch deepens to
amber-rose
Dusk’s canvas leaned against the west showcases day’s
repose
Its silhouettes of raven ink on bronze and pink become
An echo melded to the cast of Past’s immortal sum
Somewhere a Hand gathers the remnant hemline of today
Beneath His tender touch the countryside is tucked away
The Maker of the morning tips a vault of diamond jars
And splays across night’s heights a panorama made of
stars
© Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!