Flying Home

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I watched the sun set and the moon rise,
As we flew, high in the skies.
The clouds below, so milky white,
Hills and valleys, an epic sight.

But, behold, the dark, it creeps ever in,
The blanket of night will gain the win.
Violet above and black below,
Will the evening stars grant us a show?

The darkness gives way to eerie dim,
When the full-moon crests horizon’s rim.
All the color’s been washed away,
The world is painted shades of grey.

The moon, my beacon, lights the way,
To home and hearth and idle day.
Down we sink, below night’s shroud,
The rainy mist, no moon, just cloud.

The trail has ended, safe and sound,
There’s nothing like feeling solid ground.
But one thing’s better, if I may be so bold,
A smiling beauty, to embrace and hold.

Photo by Nohrmal

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