There are times...like now,
when the summer sun is fading;
when the slant of light is on the windowpane,
underneath the awning, things are shading.
When the grass is freshly cut,
and lies basking in the field;
the earth seems graced with wonder,
at what the season's yield.
There are times...like now,
when the afternoon is ending;
when the twilight does her thing,
and the world keeps tilting, bending.
I welcome in, the evening,
when the roar becomes a lull;
discovering life's magic,
never stodgy, boring, dull.
There are times...like now,
when the fill of life is grand;
and splendid are the views,
from the spot whereon you stand.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
There are times...like now,
when the summer sun is fading;
when the slant of light is on the windowpane,
underneath the awning, things are shading.
When the grass is freshly cut,
and lies basking in the field;
the earth seems graced with wonder,
at what the season's yield.
There are times...like now,
when the afternoon is ending;
when the twilight does her thing,
and the world keeps tilting, bending.
I welcome in, the evening,
when the roar becomes a lull;
discovering life's magic,
never stodgy, boring, dull.
There are times...like now,
when the fill of life is grand;
and splendid are the views,
from the spot whereon you stand.
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