Thank you, The Photo Nomad for the picture.
A sticky, ushering sunset frames the silhouettes
of men and boys, cloaking their exhausted
and hungry bodies. Shirts hang limply
from their worn hands – dragging
the rich golden sand at their bare feet –
collecting shells and copious fragments of life
washed up and forgotten onto the
grains of twinkling gold that speckle the
the rich shoreline.
Viscose awnings plied to strong timber arms
still billow wearily in the dying winds –
nets and gossamer strands drape
the spears of stilled masts triumphant stakes
away in the shallow distance.
Wading ankle deep in idle chatter,
tired eyes squint to admire the hushed glow
of twilight colours on a dusty, hazy day;
though muted and subdued they herald the dreams
to follow amid the quiet of the sea breeze’s bronze air.
Warm day’s sun retreats
Quiet permeates night air
Calm like still water
Day 157/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
I smile at sunset’s throng of small songbirds
singing out while nuzzling their nested fauna,
dreamily chirping ‘til sleep stills them.
Resting in treetops higher than dusk,
but still lower than the scattering raindrops,
they are held firmly by devoted arms that reach
forever into the night, soaring upward
to heaven to sleep there ’til dawn.
I see long, last looks from the sky
before unused clouds crawl along alone
into dark slumber where dreams wait to explode.
Glancing at the flowers’ closed petals
in graceful sleep, the moon casts a shadow
on their last blushes as the day grows weary;
their scent lingers freely and comes closer
to me through the tranquil grace of nightfall,
and we walk hand in hand through the garden
at this quiet time.
I hear the tinkling of ivory
from the stream playing right underneath
my window as it wends its weary way into the
night, moving freely in its dream state;
asleep already but forever moving
closer to a new dawn in another
world somewhere out there and beyond
our scope – to bask always in moonlight’s
I love the setting of the sun as she lays
out her golden robes; all too soon she will
adorn them once more, but for now she rests
and allows the beauty of a silver face to watch
over us in the darkness. Once inside the night,
the moon caresses the tips of nightfall wherever
it touches and we all slip silently into sleep.
If we’re lucky we soar high and meet
the heavens in our dreams and wake to live
them a thousandfold once daylight’s
waking moment’s blossom.
rests at sunrise,
golden clouds on the looms that are