When yellow ripens scarlet haze,
the sky deepens its blues
and eventide decays the days
to purple, twilit bruise.

The sweet embrace of violet eve -
swift as snow the spring has met -
envelops all in royal sleeves
and melts into the sunset.

Soft as lofty lilac clouds,
the dusk descends upon the light -
then skyward strides the moon in shrouds
of argent stars and sable night.

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Miraman, in the year 986 AF.