Violet hills...

Violet hills,

Rosy mist,

Limpid pool,

Golden notes from sunset's lute

For shadows

Draped in green

With purple feet

To dance and swim

Through irridescent undulatings.

Dusk descends;

Mauve cloudlets —

Dying butterflies —

Flit and fly and die

In the opalescent ocean of mist

That grows dark and still,

Kisses away the last gold

From the brow of the hills;

Till the coral crescent

With its wand of breeze

Makes silver ripple-music

On the pool's shadow-laden deeps.