Dusk Is Heavens At Hightide

 

Winter Dusk often seems to tug at the poet's brush

begging, 'paint me a poem'!

Dusk is a beaut, as daylight melts into apricot glaze 

And melds moments we held into a veldt of yesterdays 

It tugs at harbours deep within where echo-floats are moored 

Yon fell is like a violin beneath night’s chin secured 

Dusk is heavens at hightide rolling in across the lea 

Earth’s shoreline disappears beneath a deep blue soundless sea 

To wash away work-a-day worlds with whispers, winter-plush 

Like a velvet banner unfurled across the noise and rush 

Dusk is the perfect way to end each day, don’t you agree 

Twilight plays out its shadows until earth is ebony 

Where we like little sailors on its onyx crest embark 

On voyages of slumber until morning melts the dark 

© Janet Martin 

Slightly pre-dusk

the lowering sun tossed the white fields 

with blue-capped waves