The waves were gentle,

their crests a rustic gray,

the ebbs softly touched the sands,

Erased the footprints in the sands.

The moon glowed in delight,

in this ebon twilight,

the stars shone down,

upon the falling waters . . .


As the graceful dawn

boring its way through the black night,

casts its gold rays upon the emerald lands.

Sweeping its bright light,

across the rolling grass;

Casting the shadows to the wind,

through the azure skies.

Feather soft breezes,

lightly brushing the mountains,

rustling the light thrush . . .

the mists of the mountains starts to gather.

And soft rains started to fall,

falling, tumbling, down in loud thunderous mountain streams.

Cresting, roaring, muddied waters,

roughly falling down the mountain-sides.


The lightning is spectacular,

daunting in the least,

with its dangerous beauty.

Clashing against dark clouds

which roll in their anger,

dark, despising,

yet roughly hewn.

It calms down,

peacefully serene,

with the gentle patter of raindrops hitting the ground,

finally ending in a hazy day.


There is fire in the sky as the sun hangs low above the clouds,

fierce and yet ever-becoming,

flaming in desolate depth.

Casting a storm of contempt over the waters,

burning them in this ebon twilight;

as the waves of fire gently crest,

erasing the footprints in the sand.

Calm darkness sweeps sweet shadows across the majestic mountains,

Down the chiming springs,

further the shadows go,

finally resting on the shore; once more . . .

Please review, and once more thanks to my Beta-reader, TigeR.eye