When night comes
The tangerine sun died gallantly
succumbing amid coral pink and turquoise,
then disappearing into slate blue oblivion.
Slowly the sky became black sequinned velvet,
and a pale moon crept timidly forth
outlining all with a silvertipped pen.
In the warm jasmine-scented dusk
the long sharp grass-stems rustled softly
under the deepest tree-shadow.
Night birds call over the dark creek,
all is quiet and waiting....................