The Last of His Days

By the sea,
He dwelt,
He watched the sun take its rise,
He viewed it retire to its chamber,
He basked in nature's ambience.

By the seashore,
He walked,
The evening breeze was a panacea,
It drowned his surging grief,
Nature wrapped her hands around him.

Down the pier,
He loved to go,
The stars embellishing the sky,
The moon in its radiant glow,
Nature rekindled dying embers.

They were a comfortable pair,
They were a woven fabric,
The midnight train came for one,
Roses were blown off the meadow.

First Published in Poetry Potion