When the red sun burns like a bush-fire
the blue horizon is coloured
with photo memories burning into the irises of the eyes
and the skeletons of trees move in the wind
like spectres dancing around the fire
while rosy clouds decorate the sky,
mixing with colours of amber and crimson
creating a heavenly atmosphere
and when the birds decent like angels
the picture changes to almost a holy scene
and when the choir starts singing all of humanity stand in awe.
When the red ball of the sun leaves the horizon
the tranquillity of night takes over from the day
and becomes the mantel that cloaks everything.
Daleen Enslinstrydom
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-the-choir-begins-to-sing/
