This strange September sunset seems
Like portent from a poet's dreams,
A prophecy that melts from sorrow
For faithless souls with no tomorrow.
This picture of the day that dies,
These hazy, harsh autumnal skies
Do seem to whisper wordless warning
That darker days, for some, are dawning.
This strange September sunset seems
Our glimpse of glory, till it gleams,
When we wake up in world of wonder
Where skies are clear of storms and thunder.
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Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 15th, 2019 08:29
- Comment from author about the poem: reflections on a September sunset...
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 46
- User favorite of this poem: b-LAH-que.
Offline)
Comments1
May that wonder fill us with glory.
Amen. Many thanks G60.
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