Twilight

The twilight of the day draws near,

The blazing sun is laid to rest,

And dimming skies let stars appear

That twinkle in the bloodstained west.

The once warm air turns cold and still,

Long drawn out shadows gently fade,

While birdsong that before was shrill

Falls silent in a soft cascade.

The rooftops change from red to black,

So too the rising spiralled wisps

Of smoke churned up from chimney stacks

And stoves of wood burnt cinder crisp.

And everywhere night's velvet brush 

Begins to daub the landscape whole,

Descending with a quiet hush

That calms the nerves and soothes the soul.

Until the end when all too soon

The final vestiges of day

Are bade farewell by the new moon,

Who cannot help but smile away.