Rising Stars

It is the evening hour.
The first star sits on high.
A silver, constant eye
Watching o’er misty sky.
The sunset’s bloom has faded.
‘Neath the star, little shelves
Of cobalt cloud deepen.
Above, the clouds are lit
Whitely as angel wings.

‘Tis the hour lone blackbirds
Meet the nightingale’s call,
Vying to speak the calm
Splendour of growing gloam.
Unseen, unstoppable,
The twilight soon deepens.

My star is not alone.
Her children, now grown bold,
Dapple the sky full-blown.
And look, ‘tis Orion!
My friend through winter nights
When frost gripped wild and strong.

Now the chill of evening
Is no icy herald
But a soft, light-hearted
Rest after a hot day.
Oft sought, now wished away
When summer has its sway!