“The gold of day” a verse on the end of day.

The gold of day
Into hues of dusk
Now grows
As turns the sky
A mauve most rich
And the line of indigo
That yonder horizon embraces
Ever darker does ripen
The approach betimes of night to signify
While great battlements of brick red hills
That guard the bay
And into the ocean do dip
The cool of the waters to relish
Mantles of nighttime in maroon do assume
d.a.simpson

11 thoughts on ““The gold of day” a verse on the end of day.

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