by Elaine DeLuca-Miller
It becomes that time of day
When the winds have nothing to say
Leaves and trees all stop to pray
All there is, is a beckoning from the Bay

At the waters edge
The glow stretches out its hand
Fingertips touch to cool their fire
With passion and desire

As the day ends
The brilliance melts away
The glow begins to fizzle
If you listen carefully
You can hear water sizzle

The day now has a chill
All the land just sits still
The day has turned off its light
The sun is out of sight
It is Night

Music is "Stairway To Heaven"

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