Sunset
Sunset on the High Plains of the Mojave Desert (courtesy: Wikipedia) |
When the body easily frails
And breath suddenly shortens,
When the joints can no longer hold
Then you know that sunset dawns.
When those silky strands refuse to
Sprout, leaving a fine circumference
Of parched land on the head.
Then you know that sunset dawns.
When nature takes his stencil and
Without mercy designs those familiar lines
Leaving streaks of lightening on the face,
Then you know that sunset dawns.
When the mamba well placed in
The very centre of the garden
Can no longer rear its head to eat
An apple, then you’re sure that sunset dawns.
When those once bulgy glands
That brought joy to daddy and baby
Now stress, shrivel and sag
Then there’s no doubt that sunset dawns.
The morning seemed unending.
The ultra-rays almost indefinite.
When did the clouds form?
We did not see it coming!
Our purpose is unaccomplished!
By Jove! it is true that sunset dawns.
More from the same poet's pen:
Nice poetry! Hihihi someone in mind for "silky strands refuse to sprout... " 😀. But some people have their "sunset dawn" marked with white silky fluffy growth ooo 😁
ReplyDeleteMartin, who exactly do you have in mind for "when those silky strands refuse to sprout"? 🤔🤣🤣🤣
DeleteWho the cap fits 🤣😀
DeleteLove it.
DeletePowerful insight
ReplyDeleteAmazing 🔥🔥
ReplyDeleteThis is amazing ....💯💯💯
ReplyDelete