We wander where the fresh-washed world
Is softly being laid to rest
Beneath a velvet sky unfurled
In purple-pearl and coral vest
It is not hard to be content
As rush relents to solitude
Beneath the dimming firmament
Where common creature is subdued
The Hand that holds us unfolds gold
Then pours it on the skyline where
All that we can do is Behold
And marvel at dusk’s painted air
Here on the shore twixt light and dark
Of what was, touching what must be
Time seems a sort of bobbing bark
And we, small sailors on its sea
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!