Whispers of the Waning Light

In the tender embrace of the waning light,

She stands at the threshold of day and night.

Her gown, a cascade of sunset's own lace,

Catches the colors of the sun's soft chase.

 

The wind plays with her golden hair,

A dance with the breeze, an evening's affair.

Her silhouette against the glowing tide,

A portrait of peace, where calm resides.

 

The river, a mirror of the sky's mood,

Reflects the sun's descent, a golden flood.

The mountains whisper in hushed tones too,

As if they share this moment with you.

 

She gazes at the horizon's fiery line,

Where the dreams of day and night entwine.

In her stance, a story untold,

Of silent thoughts and reflections bold.

 

The sky's canvas, a masterpiece of light,

Bids the sun farewell, welcomes the night.

In this painting of time, she is the muse,

A vision of grace, the artist's ruse.

 

May her peace find a way to your heart,

As the day ends and the night starts.

For in this moment, under the sun's last light,

We all share her whispers with the coming night.

Done