As the Day now tires, with sleight of hand darkness steals the light,
and by royal decree, the fading landscape kneels before the Night,
his nocturne for all to see.
The World is stilled,appearing languid and not concerned with time,
all is hushed in tone, reverence rendering movement into mime,
the air as cold as stone.
Night’s rule is short, amid emerging lustre the Day reclaims control,
waking again the land, returning light and warmth that darkness stole
with his sleight of hand.