After supper, the sky is illuminated.
Flushed with golden green, the trees sparkle.
I run out to greet the sight, camera in hand.
The grass glows, basking in a singing sun.
A remnant of the storm is found in the earthen smell of rain, cool and damp.
I try in vain to capture what I see, but the sight eludes my lens.
I’m left with but an impression, surrounded by light.
-
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Memories in the Making 
Matches your pics you posted. Don’t you feel as if words just can’t express what you’re feeling. Did a good job in this poem tho. Love it!
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Thank you 🙂
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Pretty picture!
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Thanks!
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