It is the quiet times we cherish
When sunlight fails in brightness
And birds celebrate their evening songs
And wife goes to market
And even the dog almost knows he must be still.
It is the quiet time I cherish with hoot of a distant owl
And comfort from scripture of Mother's best tradition.
It is the quiet time I cherish
Enough to feel an air caress
Enough to close these lines in peace
It is the evening times we cherish.
Comments about this poem (Evening by Bill Grace )
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