Annie's Poetry

So far from heaven are we
and yet…
the last of the sun
caresses sleepy violet hills
this windless place
shifts and sighs
in perfumed ethereal mists
worn-down dunes
soaked and dripping
the falling night awash
in the white of moonlight
a cracked and crumbling path
adorned with the last
flaming leaves of autumn
amber stars
now drifting in dark rivers
sweet blossoms reach to test the air
there is the fragrance of jasmine
and an earthy dampness
from the evening dew
graceful shadows dance
in the hush of twilight
cradled in the arms of evening
and his eyes, his eyes
they mirror the deepest ocean
so far from heaven are we
and yet….
© Ann Bagnall