Evening Prayer

                            

Day’s end: a gentle breeze and rippled stream,

the drift of willow branches, sunset gleam

reflects from every splash on dappled stones,

somewhere a blackbird sings in muted tones.

The close of what has seemed a perfect day;

now, shadows stretching out, the gentle play

of country sounds around me, here I stand

beside the gate for home, to scan the land.

The gentle sound of bells invades the air,

and somewhere in the stillness hangs a prayer:

your name be blest, Lord, for these blessed days,

from dawn to dusk my heart shall lift in praise.