At Sunset

To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes; 
Its chalice overflows 
With pools of purple colouring the skies, 
Aflood with gold and rose; 
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine, 
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o’er my lonely soul.

From a poem by Pauline Johnson

Sunset on Chelsea beach


Le Mirage

“You appear like a vision unto me
I know it is not real
But I reach out and grab
I hold on to the thought of you

You’re a vision you’re a dream
Something I cannot touch but can only feel
In my bones in my soul
You reside in me.”

From a poem by Vodkowski