For my sons, John and Terry
Soft-tinted hues of sunset; an air of melancholy;
Velvet hues of pink and purple – twilight shades;
Phoebus rising pales the sky around her,
And flecks with gold the ocean’s rippling waves.
I yearn to see you when the day is dying.
Some joy dies in my soul at end of day,
Remembering as I do that each day dying
Is one day less for me to hope I may.