Twilight Blush

by John Herlihy

Why does the sunset paint the horizon scarlet red,

Awash in rivers of blood with feelings of dread?

Such a dramatic manner to express the hour,

The closing of the day with its mystical power.

What better way for night to don its attire,

Than to wear this silken scarf with its flames of fire.

Soon the twilight embers dwindle down to ash,

The glorious sunset now reduced to rubble and trash.

Left behind the night as its mystical wonder opens,

To reveal all the mysteries that the night betokens.

A streetlamp lighter passes by merrily whistling a tune,

While stars sing of the mysteries of an ancient rune.

Only at night the Milky Way promenade come alive

A brave glow thru the gathering darkness to thrive

And so sways the pendulum of the day and the night

Highlighted by dawn and dusk with their dramatic light.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Saturday 6 September 2025