His Creation
His Creation

I am mesmerized by the setting sun
Saying farewell in the western horizon.
It is paying homage it seems
To the moon and its eastern rising.
Painted in a cascade of colors
That blend and meld with skies of blue,
It is the work of the Master Artist
And is a gift for me and for you.
I see the rambunctious reds, the golden hues
Of orange and yellow, a tint of brown,
And the perplexing purples that streak...
A color of sunset not often found.
I sit in wonder of this creation
That lights the memory of passing day
To be repeated when tomorrow leaves
In another cascade of colors on display.
The sun now falls but leaves behind
Its canvas, its painted glory,
For He who paints must now depart
To tell of moon's rising story.
Oh, that I could paint such beauty...
But, alas, it is not within my talent.
He does give me words, however,
To write of this sky magnificent.
I can but hope that I make Him proud
As I describe what I have seen...
His story of the falling sun,
In colored words of a sunset's dream.

written for the All Stars challenge
host: hhazlett26 (Heather)
phrase: cascade of color(s)

By Myrna D.

© 2017 Myrna D. (All rights reserved)


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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - All Stars Challenge with hhazlett26 (Heather) -read page for rules, info, REQUIRED PHRASE (challenge has been closed)

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