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At Sunset

Rating: 2.7

To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.

I seem to hear a bar of music float
And swoon into the west;
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,

But something in my breast
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Donald duck 24 May 2018

This is the stupidest poem Ive ever seen! This girl is a weird little person who sat in her bedroom writing these terrible poems WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN! ! quack quack HMMF!

0 1 Reply
Susan Williams 28 January 2016

Rather pretty- I'm not sure but I think her first stanza could have carried the day all by itself.

21 2 Reply