THE DUSK

Alone on that wooden bench I sat,

Overhead the pale blue sky spread like a mat,

Few birds flew in the company of the air,

looking at the beautiful sky,

All the Earth could do was sit and stare.

The people quietly spoke about their daily stories,

the tiny birds rejoiced their forgotten glories.

Both trying to keep pace with each other,

about the peaceful evening little did they both bother.

The choosy air just kissed a few trees,

around them flew the tiny golden bees.

Rest stood still as the moon,

waiting for it to touch them soon.

On one side stood the blue painted sky,

which hung so high.

Painted a golden streak- like a lining which looked so deep.

The faded sunlight peeped through the crack,

but the tired sky pushed through a cloudy smack.

The gloomy sun then shied away,

behind the thin trail of mountains high,

the entire dusk closed away with a mighty sigh.