“A ring of violet mountains” #WritingCommunity #dVerse

A ring of violet mountains
Surrounds a lilac sea
That sparkles in the cool clean air
At the hour of sunset
When the previous haze of blue
Blends with the layers of pale reds from a fading sun
A sky of purple deepens to indigo
Where it comes to rests upon the land
A crystal clear night develops
Watched by myriad creatures
Whose bright curious eyes reflect the light
From a million shining stars
High in the lofty realms on high
A murmuring of passing starlings
Skims the placid surface of the mountain waters
As night now bathes the scene
In a darkness of inky blue
At the hour of repose and slumber
d.a.simpson ©

(Image by ArtTower on Pixabay)

“A sun of glowing orange” musings of mine on a sunset #WritingCommunity

A sun of glowing orange
Slid down the mighty wall
Of an apricot sky
The vast globe of liquid fire
Shimmered in the evening empyrean
It quivered with lustrous tones
Rich in flames of ambers and crimsons
Its day’s work done
The great orb
Slipped behind the rolling hills
With swathes awash
Of misty duckegg blue
Overlooking patchwork fields
In shades of lilac bathed
Where stood proud
A lone tree of ebony black
With bare branches
Like fingers elongated
Spread wide
For the sky a’reaching
The last warm rays
Of the dying sun
To embrace awhile
In fond adieu
With eulogies impassioned
Of amour undying
And pleas most earnest to return
This very morrow
Upon its departing beloved bestowing
d.a.simpson ©

Image: jplenio on Pixabay

‘Bright lights glowing” #WritingCommunity #dVerse

Bright lights glowing a million through the perforated indigo night sky
The vast firmament a great sheet sprinkled with sparkling stars
Spell out the epic tale of stoical victory over adversity cruel
Of ambush by unseen enemies from afar
A testament of heroic triumph in the face of a magnitude of suffering
A time of unimaginable cruelty and adversity torment and tribulation
Witnessed by a multitude of angelic heavenly hordes
Of a history as old as the renowned tale
Of the tragic fall of the earth and its inhabitants
From the state of very paradise of its beginnings
Now all perilously forgot by that very same wilful earthly race
As it slips lower and lower into an increasingly parlous state
Of misdeeds against its own self, its peoples and lands its seas and skies
The planets glisten brighter and brighter with dolour at each passing era
And now the cosmic death knell rings out its dread message across the universe
With every drear drum beat the galaxy of processing mourners weeps very tears of stars
As the funeral cortege wends its mournful way across the universe
The face of the sun turns a pale shade of lilac as it shrinks over the edge of the horizon
Surrounded by a blaze of red hot grief bathed in an aura of gold
That paints the celestial vault from end to end with a lustrous gilded halo
Like an icon of the saintly face of sorrows
It will be an anxious vigil this long uncertain night of waiting and watching
Until the earth’s recovery and the birth of a bright new dawn
d.a.simpson ©

( Image by geralt on Pixabay)

“In those hours before daybreak” following a stroll. #WritingCommunity #dVerse

In those hours before daybreak
There was a scarcity in the land
Of the wearying noise of clamouring voices
And of the din of the machinery of life being lived
There was all around a lack
Of the abundance of dust forever astir
That accompanied the living
Wherever they went
A quietness beyond silence
Abounded from the highest point for miles
Right down to very sea level itself
A deathly hush reigned supreme for a time
A heavy silence blanketed the world
There was everywhere an ascetic cleanliness
As if the land had been swept
And brushed back into shape
Following the customary rigours of worldly existence
As if a ritual clearing away of dirt and litter
Had been undertaken by a vast invisible army overnight
The quiet had an expectant timbre
Like the hush imposed upon an audience
By the raised baton of a maestro
Prior to the opening bars of a symphony
The stillness bore down upon the world
Like a charismatic leader
At a gathering of the faithful
d.a.simpson ©

(Image: Arcaion on Pixabay)

“A wide empty boulevard” #WritingCommunity #dVerse

A wide empty boulevard flanked by trees
Opens up before the night walker
When all is quiet and the world is safely retired to bed
Tall straight backed trees stand proudly to attention
The clean lines of their dark trunks tall and ramrod straight
As they await inspection under a moonlit sky
Each one of a unique character and appearance
That complements and completes this army of wooden soldiers
A thin tree sways in the gentle breeze
Weary from the excesses of the previous night
When gale force winds pummeled and punched their way
Through this woody realm
While the others stare straight ahead
Afeared to turn and see what behoves their comrade
Lest they too be stricken
But ’tis merely a momentary lapse for the wiry trooper revives
The parade breathes a collective sigh of relief and order is resumed
A whisper rustles through the two long rows of branches
Ruffling leaves as it travels down the telegraph line
For the gossips are out in force tonight
They have surfaced to peddle their tidbits most juicy supreme
For the delectation of all those partial
To such delicacies disclosed under cover of dark
Overheard only by the tall dark handsome strong and silent trees
Along with the unseen audience of hundreds of insects and birds
And animals that shelter among the branches
From the elements and from predators that prowl the night scene
d.a.simpson ©

Image: DarkWorkX on Pixabay

“The ebony king upon his silver throne” a sight of a crow upon a TV aerial that I beheld recently. #dVerse #WritingCommunity

The ebony king upon his silver throne
Surveyed his kingdom entire
Beneath a monumental cornflower sky
Surrounded was he by his adoring subjects serfs and satraps
Sedate and much unhurried
Was the monarch’s gaze
As haughtily he regarded each of his chattels
And scrutinised them at length
Petrified and immobile stood they
These stately trees not daring to breathe
Beneath the tyrant’s cold stare of brutal white
As his majesty their offerings investigated
Of jewels a’sparkling and baubles shiny
Countless gems in the evening light
Of pale sapphires and light pink diamonds Rubies a’glowing of brightest red
Amidst a wealth of foliage of emerald green
Held aloft upon their elegant limbs
As to Corbus Rex
In unison the avenue proudly exhibited
An array of myriad priceless treasures
In a joyous display of spring blossom delicate
Abundant in heartening assurance and promise
Of redemptive rescue and rebirth
The new season’s triumph over adversity eagerly awaited
Rich in promises yearned for by all
d.a.simpson ©

Image: Ricardo Gomez Angel. Unsplash

“Citadels and castles of ice” #WritingCommunity

Citadels and castles of ice
Frozen fortresses and temples
Lie still and silent
Beneath the twin polar caps
Keeping their existence secret
And their lives hidden
From the prying eyes
Of occasional adventurers and prospectors
Sent from warmer empires above
On a quest to discover
The mysteries and the treasures
Of the kingdoms of the ice
Beyond reach
At the very edge of the world
d.a.simpson ©

“A monumental sky swathed in indigo” #dverse #sky #WritingCommunity

A monumental sky swathed in indigo
With myriad glistering diamonds encrusted
Spreads a generous starlit arch over the emerald forest
The way below to illumine
Along the great corridors
Through the magnificent boulevards
And among the delightful streets
Of the enchanted kingdom of conifers
The huge silent monoliths rumble deep bass notes
In their tranquil halls
Stoical masters all of forbearance
Through the ever changing seasons
A cool mist infiltrates the broad avenues
All a’carpeted by sumptuous rugs
Adorned with intricate mosaics of spent pine needles and cones
In malachite and amber
A soothing fragrance lingers
The clean air to season
With its evergreen scent pungent
That delights the senses
And into the deepest chambers of the soul reaches
Transporting the spirit
To a distant realm
Whispering age old legends and fables myths
Garnered by the trees from many an ancestor
And borne on the four winds
From far off lands and long ago days
Since the very dawn of time
Now forever etched in the grain of each generation
d.a.simpson ©

Image by ractapopulous on Pixabay

“The celestial escort awaits” a verse following an evening stroll #Writing Community

The celestial escort awaits
The arrival of the nightwalker
By the gate at the end of the drive
Wisps of gauze stray languidly across the impassive features
Of the noble face
And mischievous stars hang around
Perchance to glimpse a fleeting expression
A hint of an emotion betrayed
To relay to eager gossips delighted
Awaiting out of sight beneath branches of a small copse
To glean the slightest tidbit
Of the merest crumbs of tittle tattle
From any reliable
Or indeed unreliable witness
But the moon maintains
Its vigil with a studied air of indifference
Toward the bright inquisitive eyes
That glow with shameless anticipation
At the awaited identity of the other party
To the night time rendezvous
Who duly arrives at the meeting place
Concealed from head to foot
By warm layers of dark attire
And swiftly strides away from the scene of intrigue most deep
For a path and an adventure
Known only to the walker
And the lunar bodyguard
To the deep chagrin of the throng of onlookers and chatterers
d.a.simpson ©

“The rainswept hills sighed beneath an oppressive sky” recent musings of mine. #WritingCommunity

The rainswept hills sighed beneath an oppressive sky
Following downpours relentless
From the stagnant pools
There arose a fetid air
Left behind by the rainstorms interminable
That lingered
Amongst the rotting debris of destruction
Extending the misery of the stricken
It hovered over the carnage
Rejoicing in the misfortune of others
Like a morbid onlooker
In the aftermath of an earthquake
The sorrows of the survivors
Cleansed the realm
With their rivers of tears
That flooded the valleys
As they spread across the fair land
Beneath the grieving foothills
And erupted in laments pitiful
That echoed in the barren streets
Now emptied of life
As the a’feared behind locked doors
From the horrors and woes
Sanctuary and safety sought
As they mourned their losses
And trembled for their future
d.a.simpson ©

Image Efraimstochter on Pixabay