The Sun Draws It’s Curtain

The sun draws its own curtain 

On this fresh day,

It slips into its red hue suit, 

Almost seemingly a hurried finale.

It sets in a blaze of breathtaking glory 

Behind a dark veiled landscape…

We settle in towards the moonlit night…

Its still, it’s clear,

An eerie cold feel to the air, 

No white blanket floating by

To hide the old mans cheesy grin.
It’s all so very peaceful,

Barely a sound, flowers tilt their heads, 

The slightest rustle from the trees.

Just the lightest whisper, from the gentle breeze

As it dances around the hills and vales.

The velvet looking sky showcases

Many thousands of stars hovering above us, 

So neatly, almost side by side in the dead of night.
Like studying diamonds

Each seems brighter than the last,
Take your pick, name one or two, 

Maybe after people,your loved ones,

Who once shared this amazing lunar view.

Look long, just savour the moment, 

Take it all in like a gentle intake of breath.
Does it not create a wonderful silhouette

Of all that hangs around far below?
Tall trees, tors on hilltops, 

Rippling waters, the smoke as it rises,

Ousing from the late evening fires.

We creatures of the light rest up, 

Ready for the dawn of the forthcoming day.

The earth is so still as we sleep in our quarter, 

All but for our nocturnal friends scurrying,

Beavering away,

It’s their turn to work late into the night.
The forests, the jungles and wide open planes,

All have their night owls, 

They wait for the dead of night,

Popping out to prey on some unfortunate creature.

Our sun that rises as we look to the east,

Always full of promise,

Closes It’s chapter later to the west; 

It’s a new dawn, a virgin day, 

How fascinating our life cycle is, 

Each one so different from the last.

The sun keeps busy

Whizzing around our little planet, zone by zone ,

We all relive this carnival of wondrous colours,

Again and again at the ebbing of all our days…

Until alas it is no more.

© munster 2019
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no comments or critique sought.
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