After the Hurricane 2

After the hurricane, The wind is glum, And the sunset has seen its last stop; Just beyond the horizon, Where the vales are all ebon, The birds have taken to slumber, The sea reflecting the crescent, In all its brightness, it sheens. The waves are quiescent Beneath it the fishes, Have taken sweet refuge. The dusk is nigh, The trees gleam and shy, And the little nightingale, Sings a ballad to the skies, The clouds have culled, Beneath it naps the wheat fields, Murmuring their 'goodbyes' As the night descents over the cities bright. 6/11/20 After The Hurricane Poetry Contest Sponsored by: craig cornish