Satin Sunset....

SATINSUNSET…. while walking to the emerald meadows this morn I see no silent shadows the tulips as dutch as holland have in its smell a certain blend is it perfume or ordinary fresh air? As you may know, our best friend comes from Bel Air like Joseph in his returning dreams I see now things what may not seem but this morn is too sparkling not to discover God on my walking spot, see and observe the whistling waves the swaying streams, and all other red-brown rimpling paves while walking forth to the emerald meadows so noisy have become the silent shadows the birds and the busy bunny-bees hastening to their own favourite trees slowly on darkening daylight is drowning behind the soft satin veils the sun smiles softly tenderly as he appeals the smiling sunbeams gets his glorious golden red dreams.... © Sylvia Frances Chan - All Rights Reserved Friday 24 July 2020 - soft tiny raindrips