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Bingo fill: "Light and sight"
The Sun's Journey
The time before the sun is dark,
slowly brightening, bit by bit,
shades of grey the easiest for the eye to see.
Peeking over the horizon
the sun brings light, and with it, colour;
its brightness lending hope to the day.
In the garden, the sun plays peekaboo with the plants,
shadows here, spotlights there,
the colourful blooms stretching for the light.
High in the sky, the sun beats down,
children searching for missing shadows
as adults slip on sunglasses to protect delicate eyes from the harsh light.
As the westward journey continues,
the flowers play peekaboo once again,
the afternoon light casting different patterns than the morning sun.
As the day grows longer, the sun gets lower and lower,
finally dipping below the horizon,
leaving brilliant reds and oranges in its wake.
Dusk echoes dawn,
light slowly disappearing, bit by bit,
colours fading softly back to grey.
As the night wears on grey darkens to black,
the absence of light making only the barest of sight possible,
dark shapes looming, waiting for dawn to be seen again.
When writing this poem, I had specific times of day in mind, though I'm not sure if having them as stanza headings worked, so I have the list here, in case anyone is curious about the inspiration. Hopefully the poem still makes sense without putting the headings in.
Dawn, Sunrise, Early Morning, Noon, Afternoon, Sunset, Dusk, Dark
The time before the sun is dark,
slowly brightening, bit by bit,
shades of grey the easiest for the eye to see.
Peeking over the horizon
the sun brings light, and with it, colour;
its brightness lending hope to the day.
In the garden, the sun plays peekaboo with the plants,
shadows here, spotlights there,
the colourful blooms stretching for the light.
High in the sky, the sun beats down,
children searching for missing shadows
as adults slip on sunglasses to protect delicate eyes from the harsh light.
As the westward journey continues,
the flowers play peekaboo once again,
the afternoon light casting different patterns than the morning sun.
As the day grows longer, the sun gets lower and lower,
finally dipping below the horizon,
leaving brilliant reds and oranges in its wake.
Dusk echoes dawn,
light slowly disappearing, bit by bit,
colours fading softly back to grey.
As the night wears on grey darkens to black,
the absence of light making only the barest of sight possible,
dark shapes looming, waiting for dawn to be seen again.
When writing this poem, I had specific times of day in mind, though I'm not sure if having them as stanza headings worked, so I have the list here, in case anyone is curious about the inspiration. Hopefully the poem still makes sense without putting the headings in.
Dawn, Sunrise, Early Morning, Noon, Afternoon, Sunset, Dusk, Dark
Pretty
(Anonymous) 2020-11-29 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Pretty