A POEM FOR TWILIGHT
A time when long the shadows grow,
The street lights their dim light show,
Weakened by day’s remaining light,
Then as twilight dies they’ll be bright.
Children reluctant to come in from play,
Twilight ending the games for another day,
Lovers hand in hand love this time of day
For twilight seems to bring comfort our way.
Most folks homeward bound, love to find
A good meal and sweet peace for the mind,
Twilight speaks of a day just about done,
Maybe a few small battle have been won.
Twilight, the bringer of hearth and of home,
The porch light shining for those who roam,
The smell of sweet wood smoke as a fire is lit,
Where loved ones some days may gather and sit.
Twilight the fore-runner of night’s jewelled sky,
A signal for the birds to be silent, no longer fly,
But they too may be homeward bound to rest,
Each tucked safely away in some cosy nest.
Twilight is the best part of a woman’s day
Most of the housework done things put away,
A time when loved ones will be gathered around
And together their hearts with love will abound.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson November 4, 2002