Evening Time

The evening sun hid itself among the dusty clouds
as it surrendered to the gloom of the crimson sky.
The birds tweeted their melodious chorus as trees danced by
to the whistle of gusty chilled wind.
Now must I retire to a perfect abide
and be ten thousand times free from the day's troubled burdens
reflecting on the promise tomorrow's new day brings.

Copright © 2012

poem by Godfrey Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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