Winter Sunset

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Winter Sunset

Warm reflections of placidity,
on soft fresh snow,
glows pink in the dusk,
not a single wind blows.
Calm and peaceful,
slipping into sleep,
nothing alive but me,
I find rare serenity.
Lying in the snow,
waiting to drift into sleep,
witnessing a final dusk,
as the sun falls behind distant hills.
And as I look upon,
this lifeless void,
a solitary scarlet rose,
flashes in the light,
feeding the flame of hope,

then I close my eyes.

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

LadyLink’s Poems (9)

Title Comments
Title Comments
In Light of Red and Gray 1
Winter Sunset 0
Love's Flight 2
The Rose 1
A New Page 0
The C.P.U. 1
Rain 3
A Poets Thoughts 1
Love's Reflection 1