In the stillness of the fading night,
When shadows linger, cloaked in quiet light,
The stars begin their solemn, slow retreat,
And dreams dissolve where earth and heaven meet.
A breath of wind, so soft it barely stirs,
Awakes the trees, their whispers barely heard.
The world is poised, a canvas yet unmade,
Awaiting dawn’s first trembling cascade.
Each moment hums with hope, a silent hymn,
The horizon blushes at its very rim.
The waiting heart, a prisoner to time,
Counts the seconds in a wordless rhyme.
And then it comes—so gentle, yet so vast,
The night surrenders, slips into the past.
The light spills forth, an unrelenting stream,
Transforming all, a painter’s gilded dream.
Waiting for the dawn
© Copyright: Неонила Резерфорд, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125011600442
Свидетельство о публикации №125011600442
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