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
