Paint Brush Poem by C. P. Sharma

You deftly sketch the falling golden sun
My brush is used to paint its rising hue
Truth remains it neither rises nor sets
In make belief we to earth-shadows glue.

Shadows sooth the dazzling glare of truth
Life in dawn and dusk finds its safe refuge
Perhaps in the silvery silence I respond
Your elegiac notes of warm grey amber.

My firm faith epitaph needn’t be written
As the morn sees the light of another day
As ever again the nightingale will sing
Luscious songs from groovy western isles