An Ode To Eventide

The curtseying drop of lemon sun

Paints ballroom skies in sinking amber afterglow

Where God’s golden courts thick with honied coverlet

Dispatch a pearly fleet of watercolour winged seraphim

To bolt infinity’s ember eyed hearth of glittering stars

Into night’s dour sackcloth panorama

As obscured eventide

Nibbles at the fading dusky vapours

Of gravity clamped clouds

Floating towards oblivion’s empyreal embrace

Leaving evaporating trails of their drowsy and divine design

While netted blue skies burn into purpled murk void

As Phoebe’s lone regolith eye

Watches proud from her cragged crystalline visa

The temporal closure of another slumbersome day.