The twilight of the day draws near,
And everywhere evening's velvet brush–
Begins to daub the landscape whole;
Descending with a quiet hush–
That calms the nerves and soothes the soul.
And everywhere evening's velvet brush–
Begins to daub the landscape whole;
Descending with a quiet hush–
That calms the nerves and soothes the soul.
* Photo captured by Gorvachove at Surreal, Keonjhar. He also wrote this poem.
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