As Evening Draws Close...

As evening draws close...
dove-grey clouds polish the sun
for morrows feast of fiery blast.
Half-moon slips into cosmic slot,
his invisible thread gently sways to and fro.
Silver stranded ribbons slip into segments of shredded rain,
which twist, twirl as a wandering asp,
leaving puddles of magic on a mooned mosaic path.
A million eyes widen, anxious to see
what colours the magician’s wand will free.
A pupa patiently awaits master’s call
to shimmer mellow yellow wings of crepe.

As a breeze hushes Ollie Owl’s hoot
Cornflowers smile their cobalt blue,
Salvias slash air, puff perfume,
Sugar stealers dance the Samba.
Amongst a host of circling, mithering Midges.
A shy dawn appears,
the Sun dazzles its drapes,
manicuring God’s creation
to gleam like a thousand stars.