Swallowed By The Horizon (Sonnet) Poem by Stephanie King

Mountains possess the honour of being
A stage for the shadows to dance on it;
As birds call their mates and start a-fleeing
All plants wilt to the fast-fading red split.

Wings flap against the atmospheric tide,
Above, a swarm of cotton wool clusters,
Waves of anxious animals at my side
Mothers calming children in a fluster.

A red hue enshrouds the canvas-like sky
Stars emerge from their hiding place, so faint;
Flowers close their buds, listen to them sigh
There is, but a perfect picture to paint.

As the yellow sun is being swallowed
By the distant line of the horizon.