Dusk and Twilight
A cool evening breeze blows by;
Last movements of the sleepy trees;
No flowers sway in the breeze;
No birds hover in the golden sky:
Not far away little moths fly;
The cold wind makes all freeze;
Then all actions and movements cease;
And a heavy old day passes by.
Then dark and silent all;
Moon and stars emerge in sight;
Action and silence and the unseen wall;
Nature bathes in delight;
While Mother Earth speaks her silent call,
Enjoying the symphony of the night.
Last movements of the sleepy trees;
No flowers sway in the breeze;
No birds hover in the golden sky:
Not far away little moths fly;
The cold wind makes all freeze;
Then all actions and movements cease;
And a heavy old day passes by.
Then dark and silent all;
Moon and stars emerge in sight;
Action and silence and the unseen wall;
Nature bathes in delight;
While Mother Earth speaks her silent call,
Enjoying the symphony of the night.
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One winter evening, I was seated at my work desk beside the window. Looking out, I saw something beautiful - the transition of day into night. As I watched, I wrote and the outcome was the sonnet 'Dusk and Twilight'.
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