A TWILIGHT WALK
I walked the old road, chased by twilight’s edge
passing the scent delicate of Hawthorn pinks,
and the variegated greens of the jumbled hedge,
nudged now and then by warm summer blinks.
My tarmac torment stride with it’s muffled beat
drove the dimming light to tell the world to sleep.
The sun bowed with grace, refusing encores of heat,
preferring his solar secret from we profane to keep.
What ceremony of silence, what mysterious rite
did Sol Invictus enact with his scarlet clad sky,
a scene of surreal coloured awe announcing night,
as he slipped away into the starry dark to lie.
I found myself coddled in an absence of light
and though mocked by voice of fauna unseen
I was not driven to hasten step or take flight
but revelled in the moon’s pearl glimmer sheen.