Eve Of Dusk

It is the eve of dusk as
twilight twinkles a myriad of stars
to tickle the sun into slumber's illuminating bed,
while star formed creatures dance and
and cloud born creations prance
in an eternal struggle for control
over the ethereal apex of
heaven's incandescent sky.
Unnoticed, as they go about their play,
a third seeks control as a breeze blows on its way,
shifting and pushing the clouds in their sway,
sending them hither, and sending them astray,
with cries of anger, they billow on in their flight,
hopelessly lost in their struggling plight
And now with only the glitter of stars to combat,
the wind changes shift to swoosh and to flow,
but the glimmering twinkle stays stationary,
refusing to let go of the black stain of night
that it claims as its gilded home.
And in crushing defeat,
the wind follows the clouds,
relinquishing the realm of regal refinement,
to the victorious twinkle of twilights sprinkle
of glorious stars that abound in the sky,
until time's quicksand drops its last grain,
and the sun returns with the clouds and the rain,
to rule the zenith of heavenly grace,
while slumbering stars dream of the morrow's race.