PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Shades of evening slowly drop

on softly closing day.

Wild ducks paint dark silhouettes

as they slowly wing their way.

Somewhere in the evening's mist

one croaking frog is heard.

In branches laid against pink sky

comes evensong of birds.



As darkness gathers up

the remnants of the day,

melting into blackness

as city lights display,

out there in the shadows

an owl hoots to its mate

riding air on silent wings;

a nighttime potentate.



It's peaceful to just stand alone

in velvet arms of night;

such a gentle time of peace

without the glare of light.

Shame that out there on the prowl

are those whose aim is harm.

How wonderful the night would be

without fears and alarm.