The Golden Hour

In the canvas of night, a palette divine,

The dark yellow moonlight begins to shine.

Its golden tendrils caress the world's curves,

Infusing each moment with hues that preserve.

 

Like daffodils blooming in meadows so fair,

The moon's yellow touch paints the tranquil air.

It spills on the meandering river's flow,

Gilding the ripples with a radiant glow.

 

Through dense forests, where shadows reside,

The yellow moonlight becomes our guide.

It dapples the leaves with a lemony kiss,

Elevating the ordinary to ethereal bliss.

 

In city streets, bathed in nocturnal gleam,

The yellow moonlight casts a vibrant theme.

Illuminating buildings, casting warm embrace,

Enchanting the city with its golden grace.

 

Upon the faces of dreamers, fast asleep,

The moon's yellow beams softly seep.

They whisper of hope and dreams yet untold,

Painting their slumber with a molten gold.

 

As the night unfolds, the darkness recedes,

Yellow moonlight cascades on every need.

It kindles the fire of creativity's flame,

Igniting imagination with a vibrant claim.

 

Oh, dark yellow moonlight, radiant and bold,

You infuse our world with treasures untold.

With your golden touch, you illuminate the way,

Guiding us through the night, to the break of day.

 

So let us bask in your resplendent light,

Embrace the yellow hues that grace the night.

For within your glow, a magic unfolds,

And the world shines brighter in shades of gold.