Nightfall on a Caribbean Isle
Sunset of orange, crimson, grey
As shaddows gently fall,
The lulling trade wind's whisper
To fishing boats at bay.
Silhouettes against a red sky,
Tall palms like specters stand
Heedless of the trade winds thrill
They stand as standards high.
And when the evening star lights,
And shadows drape the day,
A wood dove's cooing punctuates
The stillness of the night.
The first dew drops of nightfall
Tread lightly on the grass,
And the chirping crickets twitter
To a whistling frog's call.
As darkening shadows close
The windows of the day,
A cool gentle breeze prevails
As trade winds now repose.