Magic sunset

Poets and storytellers United

Magic Sunset

One day the light laid down to rest,
draped the cliffs in glowing fire,
sank low to set the trees ablaze
red rubies trembling on their twigs.

Mountains whispered their reflections,
spilling soft into the lake,
weaving magic through the sunset’s breath,
entering dreams to scatter wide
the wicked walls that bind the soul,
till clocks chimed vibrant hues of time.

A ribbon rose above the peaks,
the color of ripened grapes,
while the sun bled velvet red,
oozing deep into the sky’s fine cracks.

My heart was stirred, tenderly touched,
as eyes drank deep the painted light,
and the night sky sang—a cello’s voice,
low, longing tones of the eternal show.

When the black curtain gently fell,
the moon danced with frayed clouds,
while stars—thousands strong
performed el flamenco del amor
alrededor de la luna.

And in my dreams, I spoke a tongue
unheard by waking ears,
while this silent night’s grand show ran on.