Golden Hour
Never was there such a thing
As beautiful as you
Never will there be again
That beauty that’s anew
The way that you smile, the gleam in your eye
The way you express your being, you’re sweet and shy
The fleeting glimpses I catch of you
Are beautiful, and indeed magical, too
Dressed in your golden, glowing soul
As the sun softly slips below
And right before the end of days
You dazzle the world’s softly falling gaze
You are the good of the very world
The work, the weight, the unchanged, the unfurled
SaltwaterJanuary 