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At Close of Day At Close of Day. (From Plum Island Turnpike) Noiseless the dusky shadows steal O’er the marshland reaches lone, The flames of the West Light their shadowy quest, And the breaking waves intone. The flames of the West shade into gold, The gold flows into green, The green to blue Of a somber hue, And the first faint stars are seen. Silent and dark stand the city’s spires, The twink’ling lights flare out, But the stand of the light ‘Gainst the hosts of night, Ends in ignominious rout. The lights disappear; the city sleeps To renew its strength for the morrow, And some are they Whose hearts are gay, And some are crushed with sorrow. But there is a city, a city of God, Where the river of peace flows free, And the souls great theme Is of joy supreme, And joy through eternity! Then sleep, thou weary, and care-free ones, And dream of a bright tomorrow- In that city of light There will be no night, Nor sleep as a balm for sorrow. By: Myron Oakman Patton |
Additional Notes:
Another one from my Great-Grandfather. Please refrain from critiquing as I don't want to skew the monthly poetry contest. Thanks for all your interest and I'd be thrilled if you would comment on the forum perhaps.
KenP
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2007-04-25 12:13:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.53846
Hi Ken....oh this is just beautiful. I honestly felt like I was seeing the city through your Great-Grandfather's eyes. He was a very talented poet and I thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to read his work.
Marilyn