Adeeyoyo's Blog

I write what I feel…


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Evensong

.

The skirt of evening falls

gently enfolding hills and dales

in purple haze; these are the days

where twilight wraps branches as they bow

and the flames of the setting sun

dive headfirst into the golden meadow.

The morrow waits just o’er the hill

with bated breath, beyond the heath,

and God keeps watch both day and night

to see His will be done.

.

©Denise G Allen, 27 September 2014 17:10