When the hills swallow up the last of the sun,
And the light of day is almost done,
The moon appears, to fulfil it's duty,
Whilst darkness hides away the hillsides beauty,
After the sun has finally set,
There just remains a silhouette.
A jagged horizon between the sky and trees,
Dancing eloquently in the evening breeze,
The whistle of the wind as it blows through vales,
Finding every crevice across hills and dales.
One by one stars disappear,
As the dark black sky begins to clear,
The constellations fade away,
As night changes shift with the break of day,
The disappearance of Orion, the plough and taurus,
Pale unto insignificance with Dawn's sweet chorus.
The morning sun beams and breathes in colour,
Whilst the moon retreats and hides away as it becomes duller.
And so starts the cycle of another day,
Now that nighttime has faded away.
Nick Jordan.'s Other Poems
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