Above dark tree-tops sand-dunes rise
on isles of clouds in sea blue skies.
As evening breeze swept ecru hills
dark shades are left by wind's past thrills.
This pastel painting left as gift,
is but ephemeral, will shift
in moments, so look up and see
these fleeting treasures of sky's sea.
When twilight ends, sun goes to rest,
she'll pull the shades across dunes' crest.
As light is fading, sound dies down -
a whisper still in tall tree's crown.
Now dark of night will reign, till dawn
wakes up to paint new dunes in fawn.
If you have any suggestions or questions regarding these poems please email me