At the end of the day, I await the night
As it slowly sets in
With a prelude of colours.
It grows quieter and peaceful
Birds cease to sing
And fly home to rest their wings
On long limbed trees that weather time.
Noise ebbs, save for the throaty croak of frogs
Or the mating songs of cicadas.
The sky is lit with silver lamps
While the moon looks on
Smiling with cherubic cheeks
As the blanket of darkness
Tucks the world in
Ushering a world of dreams.