pink sunset

Soft the vulnerable caress

Which parts Night’s lips in tender lullaby

Words pour forth, singing Day to sleep

Cosmic Battle



Night admits defeat,

Melts into forest shadows –

Broken by the Light


Your Day is Coming

Taffeta ruffles,

meet the starch of age.

Your blush now comes from a bottle.

Fallen arches and brittle bones

wave farewell to the seamless beauty

of youth,

the lithe and supple grace

in looking-glass of old.

Don’t trade wisdom for agility,

or experience for smooth skin.

Embrace the wrinkles

that stamp Life into features;

name gray hairs

Maturity and Character.

As your last sun sets,

stand tall.


When your light rises again,

your skin will be fresh and new.

Your legs will be strong,

your steps sure.

Wait, my friend.

Your day is coming.

Role Reversal

Trees put on their nightgowns and nod their heads in rest;

Sleepy river slows its pace, in tranquil stillness dressed.

Sky relinquishes its light, and dons a sober air;

Clouds are wrapped in bedclothes, adopting night-time stare.

Shadows stir and start their prowl as traffic lights cast glows;

Twinkling lampposts stretch and yawn and grab their party clothes.

Moon awakes, and with a grin, takes his night-owl perch;

A role-reversal supervised by watchful eye of Church.