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Nightfall flowers like the lotus blossom,

Breathing still sleep from its fragrant blooms.

Sea-waves carve the coast like a Christmas goose

And the cold spray, with a tentative breath,

Sings a sigh of relief to the evening,

Dulling the senses with its sirens’ song-

A lullabye lovingly saved from Time,

An antidote pulled from the memory

For the forgetfulness of bygone youth,

The preservation of fleeting moments-

A cautionary tale writ for lovers

 

Kissing closed the single eye of the sun,

Watching its lid fall to a gentle close,

Night tucks the tired earth with a mothers touch,

Enshrouds him ‘neath the warm patchwork of dusk,

Ensuring his secrets are safe once more-

To cut the cord of the mornings curtain,

The moon rises like a silver dagger,

Almost a pale sliver of broken mirror-

So strangely does its glow caress the vales

That to some it seems Time is standing still:

As workmen tread the weary way homeward,

Eager to warm their bones by the hearthstone-

As wives hang their boots for another day

 -Frost, Autumn 2010.

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