Summer Vesper

 The sunset was, u-u-u-m-m...grand. Actually, there are no words for what the sunset was...

The shadow climbs the gilded gate

Beneath dusk’s grand pavilion

Until blue depths obliterate

Its silhouette horizon

Against the quiet aftermath

Of mid-day’s bustling duty

The Painter of life’s little path

Unfurls night’s somber beauty

And now the sweet familiar dons

A strange and mystic splendor

The moonlight pools on silver lawns

In midnight’s mellow candor

The charcoal hush dims gold and red

Brushing garden and meadow

As all the world is tucked to bed

Beneath night’s velvet shadow

The lithesome step of eager child

Dashes through dream-land pasture

The brook that threads the begging wild

Murmurs in muted laughter

The tangled tress of raven limb

Strums softly with silk fingers

The air is drenched with midnight’s hymn

Where hope and heartache lingers

© Janet Martin