Where the sun meets the land and the trees become shadow
A city of twilight is built from shining rays.
A beautiful motherland that stands tall in the sea
A haven of strength and devotion.
This city’s doors are always thrown wide
Inviting, and golden, and strong
The city has walls of sparkling sand
The dunes curving inwards when I stay for a while.
The city is always warm, with a comforting breeze
And the snow feels like a blanket of soft fluffy air.
The city is bright, with dazzling lights
Emitting toasty brown glow
Like fall tea in the sun.
If you were to venture far into the alleys
Old buildings still stand from when the city was young.
These houses are broken, crumbling, and haunted
From people who lived in them
But never took care.
Owls live in the nooks and the crannies
Their coos are the ramblings of a wizened old sage.
The innermost city, where these buildings reside
Will welcome you wholly
If you dare look inside.
The city at twilight is the place we all long for
You’re the place and the person
I’ll always call home.
Comments
Happy birthday to my mother, for whom this poem is written. Love you always.
I can almost see the soft glow of this city at night, feel its warmth. A place can have as much personality and depth as a person, as you've clearly shown. So atmospheric, too -- especially the end, written about the old quarter of the city...
Log in or register to post comments.