#WritcoPoemPrompt34
At the edge of the furthest mountain,
Between the valley and the lazy river,
Beyond the edge of the scented meadow,
I can see the hues painted by the setting sun...

Crimson and gold spread like a canvas,
Melting into shades of deepening violet,
Where the sky kisses the horizon,
A blaze of colors that whispers of day’s end.

The gentle wind carries the scent of pine,
And the river's murmur dances with echoes,
As the last light filters through the trees,
Shadows stretch and yawn in the fading glow.

Stars begin to prick the twilight canvas,
Silver threads weaving through the darkening sky,
While the first cool breath of evening settles,
Embracing the world in a tranquil sigh.

Here, where nature's brush meets twilight’s grace,
A serene symphony of dusk unfolds,
A moment suspended, serene and endless,
In the soft embrace of night’s gentle hold.
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