Poem: Summer glory

This eve closes in muggy and slow
leaving mud banks of mangroves dry
as the tides rises and falls but barely
in the windless merciless night
the marching clouds still
over vast violet sky
littered as though thoughtlessly
with millions upon countless twinkles
of stars and galaxies wide
yet not a revere is found
not from the scorching sky
where in the day the air grew thick
warm and unbearable
and all one would wish
in the delirium of it all
the bite of winter chill.

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I'm a writer of stories I'd love to read. I dream of being a best-selling author one day, but don't we all? I'd also love to work as a scriptwriter in Hollywood. Dreams that seem impossible really, but I'm gutsy/dumb enough to try. l love all things paper and pen. Believe me, I collect them. I write novels, poems and scripts. I paint. I have two Kindle novels, In Strange Company, and Charming Mr. Stewart on Amazon.com Follow me and my progress on my blog, www.papermashed.com, on Twitter @evacharya, Facebook 'Author/Filmmaker- Eva Acharya', and sign up for my email.

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