Where Countryside is Cradled...

 Tonight as I watched dusk grow ever deeper it seemed She was tucking the world to bed...

Lulled countryside is cradled in plush aftermath of day

Where tree-line etched on moorland hill will soon be hushed away

The Artist of this palette mutes the tincture on His brush

For this is nature’s musing hour after clamor’s rush

See how the shadow splays its steeple like a fluted glass

How soft the restless zephyr plays its violin of grass

And where the world was full of noise and frameworks of desire

The matron of twilight deploys a kind and crooning choir

Priorities shift from the Seen to worlds beneath our skin

Where hope and heartache ever keen its fathoms deep within

Defeat, triumph, remorse and romance pander and persuade

The dreamer to keep dreaming where Time’s tapestry is laid

Hills roll into the valley as they reach up to the sky

A synchronized evolvement of hello shaping good-bye

Relief and desperation mingle, strangely bittersweet

Where countryside is cradled like a baby half asleep

© Janet Martin