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Sep 2014
The twilight of the day draws near,
The blazing sun is laid to rest,
And dimming skies let stars appear
That twinkle in the bloodstained west.

The once warm air turns cold and still,
Long drawn out shadows gently fade,
While birdsong that before was shrill
Falls silent in a soft cascade.

The rooftops change from red to black,
So too the rising spiralled wisps
Of smoke churned up from chimney stacks
And stoves of wood burnt cinder crisp.

And everywhere nights velvet brush
Begins to daub the landscape whole,
Descending with a quiet hush
That calms the nerves and soothes the soul.

Until the end when all too soon
The final vestiges of day
Are bade farewell by the new moon
Who cannot help but smile away.
Adam Latham
Written by
Adam Latham  Stoke-on-Trent
(Stoke-on-Trent)   
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