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The Dark Hours.
Silken soft the dark hours drift
Towards a golden dawn.
Hours that glide across eternity
And disolve in the gossamer morn.
Darkness, soft as butterfly wings
And quiet, like a shining lake.
Night birds know this secret world
Thats blown away upon daybreak.
Great imagery, you paint a
Great imagery, you paint a delicate portrait. I'm glad you decided to post this after so many years.
A mere suggestion on my part would be to change the words, "blown away" , to something more suitable for such a gentle piece of work.
Nicely done.
Thank you, I always
Thank you, I always appreciate your comments, I suppose now 'blown away' conveys a harsher image than it did when I wrote it. I just saw a gentle wind blowing across the dawn. Will have another look at it.