David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
That glowing orb of yellow daffodil
Darkening from yellow to orange glow
From the west faint embers that thrill
A shimmering breeze that dips below
The horizon like a mirage in a desert of sea.
From the east darkness spreads its dark cloak
As night creeps slowly in what must be
The closing of the daylight hours now broke.
Sweet nature governs what you and I now see
That orb, now gone, just a dim faint glow
Marks the end of today and what may be.
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