When evening dawns, the harsher shades
Of toil are dimmed and muted
Staccato rhythms of noon-parades
Recoil, in history rooted
And from the cusp of earthen tongue
A somnolent caressing
Draws shadowed dusk o'er old and young
In heaven’s twilight blessing
The azure grin of laughing day
The tumbled cloud of sorrow
Are gathered in and tucked away
Lord willing, till tomorrow
And from the wall of hill and tree
Of sky-scraper horizon
A deepening shawl of symmetry
Expands from heaven's ocean
Across the girth of misery
And lust’s incessant fretting
Behold the earth, a velvet sea
Beneath dusk’s dew-drop netting
Come; cast to naught your meager wants
Beneath an eye immortal
For evening dawns in mystic haunts
From heaven’s lowered portal
© Janet Martin
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!