At last the day to night has turned,
Havoc wrought – Fate to its 'bode returned,
It's calm, yet a muddy wash remains,
Where angry winds in frenzy the sea had churned.

Strange I'm depressed, the air is clean,
The Artist's brush again portrays the scene,
That vivid in memory is now relived,
Through blurred eyes a distant rainbow's seen.

Is it pain or despair that drives me then,
To shut out all thought and seek my pen,
Or is it you from far away,
Who pierce the gloom with another ray?

It rained – And I walked alone
Along darkened streets till the kiss of dawn,
Awakened hope that long I'd thought was dead,
And dreams of another Time I'd known.

My eyes were wet – Was it tears or rain?
As I chose my steps to cause no pain,
To Autumn leaves who in the streets lay down
To rest – In beds of gold and brown.

Each drop that fell was like a chord
Of a poem I read, a song I'd heard,
In chorus the Rain its music lent
From far your voice the words murmured.

I saw again that path of brown
Your hand in mine, your eyes cast down,
Yesterday was gone we had our today,
That through all morrows would with us stay.

Doubt's torrents ebbed, torment's fires that burned,
Are now to smouldering cinders turned,
Blind love that groped a forgotten way
Is home at last, and come to stay.

Ah would the night its spell maintain,
And darkness' languor with me remain,
Closed eyes that these sights behold,
Shun morning's light and reality's pain.