Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Equinox

Tenderly falls the evening,
of a mid September day,
after the hustle-bustle,
the night makes it way.

The titillating breeze urges,
with frisky frivolous knocks,
the parched yellowing leaves,
murmuring in flocks.

The clouds nautically
heaven, they survey.
Augur that nigh is,
the first winter day.

The much adulated moon
allures them to fetch it.
But alas you can see it,
and you can not touch it.

Just for that hypnotic glimpse
they want the night to stay,
but the days and nights are same,
forgot, those clouds, poor and grey.

Its equinox of September,
day equals night.
Soon the moon will wax away,
till it’s out of sight