Sunset Poems
Maker Of Heaven And Earth (All Things Bright And Beautiful)
by Cecil Frances Alexander
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.
......
Haunted
by Siegfried Sassoon
Evening was in the wood, louring with storm.
A time of drought had sucked the weedy pool
And baked the channels; birds had done with song.
Thirst was a dream of fountains in the moon,
Or willow-music blown across the water
Leisurely sliding on by weir and mill.
Uneasy was the man who wandered, brooding,
His face a little whiter than the dusk.
A drone of sultry wings flicker'd in his head.
......
Never Before Seen
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
In hues orange, pink, red, teal and purple,
the sunset skies look quite unique tonight,
to laud this hour of summer eternal-
pretty as the purple martins in flight!
Each hour's new, though they go in a circle;
And I'm thrilled fate put me here for this sight.
Early, eager moon, remembers cream clouds,
Coming to soon fade, like the floral crowds.
The Golden Journey To Samarkand
by James Elroy Flecker
I
We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage
And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die,
We Poets of the proud old lineage
Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why, -
What shall we tell you? Tales, marvellous tales
Of ships and stars and isles where good men rest,
Where nevermore the rose of sunset pales,
And winds and shadows fall towards the West:
......
Questions Of Travel
by Elizabeth Bishop
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops
makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,
turning to waterfalls under our very eyes.
- For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains,
aren't waterfalls yet,
in a quick age or so, as ages go here,
they probably will be.
But if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,
......
How Time Has Gone
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
My, how wamburdsly vett skitterelees
yammer in modduskwom, sutty slivers,
every pop muddleskiddly of red-orange,
in zakrum, zezzledop, vixaddamoth blur!
To see maxfluppinnes' purpled zizum,
at tillaradoom jazzowdline's tyll sass;
in pithy, murldizzily, gibborton ullius,
of dizzledop, rose, klixmuth contrast!
......
Never Before Seen
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
In hues orange, pink, red, teal and purple,
the sunset skies look quite unique tonight,
to laud this hour of summer eternal-
pretty as the purple martins in flight!
Each hour's new, though they go in a circle;
And I'm thrilled fate put me here for this sight.
Early, eager moon, remembers cream clouds,
Coming to soon fade, like the floral crowds.
Garnet
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Gadabout butterflies
glitter like red sunset.
Gem sparkles in the west.
Gracious nature provides
glamour hues in winter.
Glad robin sings, lustrous.
Goodbye, last robustness.
Sunset Over Mull
by Kirsten Moreton
The sky-blue bleeds into the daffodil yellow melting into the burning orange,
harshly interrupted by the black roaring mountains erupting from the earth.
Only for the magnificent mirror to continue again in those blues, yellows and oranges.
The shifts in the current tear through the fabric of the river, staining the blue with patches of coral pigment.
A blazing ball projects the beauty to only four eyes. Wonder only seen by two people. Wonder that can only be found and only be enjoyed in one of few places left that is truly wild.
......
Reclining Rose
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Reposed in shadows
within a realm of colors
dusty rose gown blurs.
All the flowers she adores ~
as gold love's beamed out of doors.
Green and purple blooms
are always in her warm face ~
'til she sinks in grace.
......
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John Greenleaf Whittier (10 poems about Sunset)
17 December 1807 – 7 September 1892 / Haverhill, Massachusetts -
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