I love to see a sunset!
A sky not just blue
but orange, green, and russet
yellow and purple too!
The sky is briefly colored-rainbow
Colors stretching around earth's bend
With beams bright or mellow
It has not rain or even end!
No end to color in the sky
But brief is the medley's stay
for eventually they must bid good-bye
Night overtakes the day.
(This is a song that the dwarves sing in a book/story I’m writing….anyway, it’s dwarven!)
“Back from the mines
We are now coming.
Our day’s toil is done
For the sun is now leaving.
To here and home
Our tread is bearing.
Outside the land might be battling,
But here we keep gay and merry
As we come from the mines.
Yonder the moon is rising
Waving farewell to the sinking sun.
Here at day’s ending,
And night’s beginning,
Prologue
A great Darkness had descended upon the valley city, Hethwenthor. Of this time, we know but the scattered and incomplete accounts which were left by the people who wrote them.
Chapter One
The rippling grass
Beseeches the sun
As again it turns
Towards the horizon
The awaking moon
Is ever sailing
Shadowy it looks
To the setting sun
Whiter than snow
Pale and yellow
Gold is its rays
And orange clouds surround
The vibrant sight
Then melts out
Into the dark sky
Of a fresh new night
The earth is darkened
Below the trees
Shadows lay down
In the green wood
The sun was setting, making purple and pink streaks across the big sky. The rolling hills were mere silhouettes against the darkening sky. And across the way, there was a small valley that was beginning to be swallowed up by the dusk. In that small valley, there lived a herd of goats. And with no goatherd, they did as they pleased. Now, in that particular herd of goats, there lived an old nanny goat and her goat kid named Bobby.
The mourning wind assails the night
As twilight darkens around the sky
A wisp of wind across the dark
A silent wailing about the wood
So quickly the sunset fades around the bitter cold
And birds fly upon darkening sky
Of shades of blue it stretches out
Looming and still as howling wind sweeps through
The black branches waving about
Brushing against themselves in the breeze
The trunk is unmoved above the ground
And its bark black on the horizon
I feel the sun catch the tops of the trees before I see it. Turning, I see through my window the oaks aflame with the last of the dying light. For a moment I am still, dazzled with the flash of gold. Then I rise, abandoning my study without a second thought. In some deep corner of my heart I know I will not be able to live with myself if I don’t go to the hilltop.