2019 April PAD Challenge: Day 26

For today’s prompt, write an evening poem. A poem about or during the night. Or take evening a completely different direction and think of evening the score or making things more even (or fair or whatever).

*****

Poem Your Days Away!

Online poetry prompts are great! But where can you get your poem fix when you unplug? The answer is the Smash Poetry Journal, by Robert Lee Brewer.

This book collects 125 poetry prompts from the Poetic Asides blog, gives poets plenty of room to write poems, and a lot of other great poetic information. Perfectly sized to carry in a backpack or purse, you can jot down ideas for poems as you’re waiting in line for a morning coffee or take it to the park for a breezy afternoon writing session (or on a bus, at a laundromat, or about anywhere else you can imagine–except under water, unless you’re in a submarine or a giant breathable plastic bubble).

Anyway, it’s great for prompting poems, and you should order a copy today. (Maybe order an extra one as a gift for a friend.)

Click to continue.

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Here’s my attempt at an Evening Poem:

“twilight”

our words always feel deeper
our intentions more intense
after the burning sun
descends into the west

*****

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He loves moments of twilight. Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

241 thoughts on “2019 April PAD Challenge: Day 26

  1. AvatarHillariousJ

    Sky lowers over Earth spreading
    Clouds like downy blankets,
    dropping them ever nearer,
    tucking Day’s weak heat
    around the city.
    Spring in London stretches long
    like a cat getting ready to prowl,
    is cool and indifferent.
    Growing days, waning nights,
    make this evening,
    make this cool kiss,
    a little longer for you.

  2. Avatarrebwood

    Spring Nocturne NYC

    wraith filled city streets
    smudged with gunmetal fog
    Sunsetting obscured

    wisps of misty rain
    shearing tall building spires
    into stunted blocks

    one red umbrella
    in the boulevard below
    sundering coiled mist

  3. AvatarHillariousJ

    Evening

    Sky lowers over Earth spreading
    Clouds like downy blankets
    Dropping them ever nearer,
    Tucking Day’s weak heat
    around the city.
    Spring in London stretches long
    like a cat getting ready to prowl,
    is cool and indifferent.
    Growing days, waning nights,
    make this evening,
    Make this cool kiss,
    A little longer for you.

  4. AvatarMaddiScarboro

    Nine in the Evening

    There’s a point in every day
    When my cares all fade away.
    I throw the stress right off my shoulders
    And roll my eyes on over.
    Unload,
    Unwind,
    Nine at night is my chill time.
    Don’t try to make me anxious or mad
    Because i won’t be paying attention.
    Save the mess for tomorrow morning
    Where it starts all over again.

  5. AvatarMr. Walker

    Evening Dress

    I put on my evening dress
    And went out for a casual stroll

    The sidewalk grew perfectly flat
    Tree roots subsided / cracks disappeared

    Wheelchairs and strollers rolled smoothly
    People began to dance

    A little soft shoe / a little slide
    Music came from everywhere

    Measured was the music
    And the hearts of the people were calm

    As their bodies swayed into parallel lines
    New line dances were invented

    Every move was so smooth
    All rhythm no blues

    A steady beat to the music
    Everyone finding a partner

    They were on the same level
    They looked directly into each other’s eyes

    Everything was right
    Everything was true

    Until I ended my stroll
    In my evening dress

  6. AvatarBDP

    Imayo: “Night”

    Curtains yet open, she sleeps: moon builds a mantel.
    Lost love puts a vignette there: vase of shadow leaves.
    She wakes, startled, to rustling: slow movement of light.
    He smiles, over-shoulder wink: disappearing footprints.

    * * * * *

    curtains yet open, she sleeps
    moon builds a mantel
    lost love puts a vignette there
    vase of shadow leaves
    she wakes, startled, to rustling
    slow movement of light
    he smiles, over-shoulder wink
    disappearing footprints

    B Peters

  7. AvatarBrandi Noelle

    Twilight Memories

    It’s the light that shines at dusk
    painting the sky a familiar shade
    that takes you back to days of past
    it’s the light that makes you visit places
    long since forgotten
    it’s the light that brings a familiar ache to your heart
    the emptiness in the pit of your stomach
    the void in your soul
    it’s the light that can make years seem like minutes
    the light that makes you believe
    if you close your eyes for just one moment
    you can transport yourself back to a time long ago
    the light that makes you think if you reach out
    all that once was will be tangible again
    it’s the light that brings fresh tears
    it’s the light that makes you yearn for a lost love
    one who no longer shares your days
    though his voice will never be forgotten
    the voice that still whispers in your ear
    the soul that still has a part of yours
    wherever it may be
    it’s the light that makes you retreat within yourself
    holding those memories tighter
    as though with the fading of the day into night
    they may be gone too
    it’s the light that haunts you

  8. AvatarYolee

    There’re epochs

    when evening shows up and I still
    need the sun like a shawl. I need it like a bulb
    when thoughts run to the cellar. I need the sun
    when the sky is a clear page and
    my search sketches what’s possible.

    When unfolded laundry, unopened mail
    and the latest collection of dust begin
    to recede in the folds of looming darkness,
    and opened windows offer evening’s
    breath mint, I wait until the Lord’s Prayer
    rebuilds the broken silence.

  9. AvatarLCaramanna

    Until Darkness Descends

    Because the night belongs to lovers,
    my neighborhood friend settles in for
    evening,
    comfortable with conversation
    at my kitchen table,
    to share a glass of wine
    or perhaps an entire bottle,
    snack chips and dip hors d’oeuvres
    until darkness descends
    and my neighborhood friend hastens
    across his lawn
    to light the lamp in his front window
    next to the recliner
    where night hours will be wasted
    engrossed in the latest cop show on tv,
    alone
    because the night belongs to lovers
    and we are nothing more than friends.

    Lorraine Caramanna

  10. AvatarDe Jackson

    when evening comes

    ,
    and the day’s all wrung
    out, small and silent – buzzing
    sunset burned to cricket song,

    I’m lost in the long
               (shadow)
    -gone ghost of you,
    and the sky’s too small
    for such an intricate heart.

    ::

  11. AvatarMonique

    Darkness and Doubt
    (From Andy’s POV)

    Holding on to first impressions
    The camaraderie that we once had
    Even as red flags are flying,
    I try to remember why I loved her.

    She came into my life like an angel,
    coming to me in my time of need.
    We sat on the outside together,
    Was I in love with an idea all this time?

    How can she fall in love with the darkness?
    Long to live with the creatures of the night?
    She sees it as an escape without understanding
    that her “freedom” will come at a terrible price

    Even if I tell her, I don’t think she’ll believe me
    She doesn’t know the lives they’ve taken
    To her, these bloodsuckers are lost souls,
    that these monsters are fallen angels.

    I’m starting to wonder if I ever really knew her
    Or what she would think of the things I do.
    Was I just in love with the idea of something?
    Did I do her wrong or forget something right?

    The doubt is clouding my heart like a storm
    looming as day turns into the darkest night.
    I don’t know if I want this love to end
    because if she’s gone, what do I have left?

  12. Avatarscrittore

    TWILIGHT –

    The day drifts to diffused light
    softening edges
    shapeshifting shadows
    hues to the satin sheen of next
    active sounds of light muted
    day is ending
    ripening for morning

  13. AvatarAnvanya

    IN THE EVENT

    I’ve learned over the years to stop waiting.
    While in line, I glance about at the other
    Customers, take breaths that shut out those
    Inane conversations which abound in public spaces,
    And once in a while even manage to
    Not fall into the black hole of judging
    The items placed on the conveyor belt
    By the person ahead of me. After all,
    Keeping busy eliminates the idle mind, eh?

    Just suppose, what if another were to tally
    Up my stuff? Best not to go there because
    In the event I’m the one who has to heft
    The reusable bags, drag them from my trunk
    Up the steps into the house, and put all the
    Necessaries in the correct spaces on
    The shelves and in the fridge.

    When tempted to regress, I simply pull out
    The ever-present shopping list and make
    Notations of all the things I forgot to include
    Today. The pantry needs restocking and I failed
    To check its contents before leaving home.
    Eventually, I am in constant hope, I shall
    Be able to cover the entire kitchen and pantry
    And fridge and freezer in one swell-foop
    Before I walk out the back door. Ahem. …

    © April 2019 MCL

  14. Avatarpcm

    Twilight

    Kashmir tchai steeps strong
    in a white ceramic pot by a saucer
    with croissant slices the café owner
    brought to my table outside
    beneath an awning that keeps out the rain

    the café is called Dulce—sweet
    as are the voices of people
    greeting each other in French
    kissing one cheek, the other, catching

    up on the day over beer, Schweppes
    or tea like me. A pigeon struts in the door
    head bobbing fore and aft like a courser
    her tiny steps carry her across the floor
    she leaves

    With one hand, I bring a croissant slice
    to my lips, savor the soft buttery pastry
    —it counters the bitter words on the page
    sweet to be out of the rain, warm voices
    murmuring conversations, enter a louder gravelly

    pitch as another man greets the elders around a table
    near the door. I’m reading from a memoir
    of a man in his twilight years, how he knew
    Sylvia Plath as a neighbor in the Yeats
    house they shared—she upstairs and he

    down, how she didn’t seem to notice
    he too had children at home, missed
    his spouse gone astray. I pour the tea
    add sugar from a packet—long and thin
    cerulean blue with a crimped edge

    white as the sun lighting up a cloud
    I fiddle with the wrapper
    around “The original Speculos”
    —a sweet gingery cookie that melts
    on my tongue distinct from the tea

    as the red wrapper and its white lotus
    are to the empty cerulean-and-white
    sugar packets. The pigeon returns
    strutting and bobbing her head—a pigeon
    friend follows her in

    It would be dusk now if we hadn’t set
    the clocks for spring. In the square
    where the Dulce hums warm with life
    clocks hands stay frozen

    Sylvia’s gas poisoned the old man
    —made him sleep so soundly
    he never heard the hullabaloo
    when she died right upstairs.

    ~ pcm

  15. Avatarclaudsy

    Down on the farm

    Breeze-twisted wisps rise from sun-warmed earth,
    Wrapping greenery in ghostly shrouds;
    Exquisite slowness forces moist white fingers
    To encircle upward, to torment tree trunks
    In a creeping, titillating embrace until mist
    Reaches the crotch above and leaves behind
    A pool of watery essence—proof of its daring.

    Night calls and swooping wings punctuate
    The looming darkness, giving hearts a thrill,
    Speaking to creatures below, both warming
    And triumph from those who see through
    Dark shadows and sunless glades.

    Before star glitter and moon rise,
    Gleaners venture forth to reap the
    Bounty of seed heads, roots, and fungi,
    One eye ever skyward for night hawk
    And owl’s silent approach from above.

    Denizens of the night come as timid
    Or bold, furred or feathered; yet all
    Must play this nightly dangerous game
    Of seeker and prey, for their natures
    Demand player status within the woods
    And fields, issuing challenges and
    Squeaked surrenders on the damp breeze.

  16. AvatarMET

    Evening Colors

    I love the evening for its colors…
    How bright red become dull and dark
    As the garnet in my ring…
    There is a brooding feel
    In the evening reds.
    Greens get lighter
    Like all that sun has gotten them drunk,
    And the ordinary color
    Becomes the life of the party.
    The blue sky begins to shimmer
    With colors not previously seen
    Apricot, magenta, sunflower gold
    As these colors drift to the horizon…
    The blue slowly darkens
    First with an overcast of purples
    Which is the twilight color,
    It glistens with star dust
    As the sky rises into the universe
    And becomes an evening blue
    Dark and muted-
    Not the velvet of the night…
    But like silk which flows
    And rustles in the evening breeze.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 26, 2019

  17. Avatarconnielpeters

    Like a Hidden Treasure

    My heart seeks You, like a pirate a hidden treasure
    I search in the stillness of twilight
    I listen in the darkness of night
    My heart seeks You, like a pirate a hidden treasure

    I search in the stillness of twilight
    I recall Your loving ways
    Your blessing all my days
    I search in the stillness of twilight

    I recall Your loving ways
    I feel Your smile on me
    In You I am free
    I recall Your loving ways

    I feel Your smile on me.
    In You is great peace.
    In You is release
    I feel Your smile on me

    My heart seeks You, like a pirate a hidden treasure
    I search in the stillness of twilight
    I listen in the darkness of night
    My heart seeks You, like a pirate a hidden treasure

  18. AvatarEarl Parsons

    The Golden Hour

    Sought by photo hounds
    The magic light of sunset
    And the small time frame
    On either side of it
    When yellows turn to gold
    Reds turn to crimson
    And greens shine florescent
    The Golden Hour
    Evenings gift to the sensor

  19. Avatarbethwk

    Evening
    by Beth Weaver-Kreider

    There is a leavening in this light,
    a swelling of shine,
    a billowing bloom to the glow,
    even as light is leaving,
    it’s serving the last pillowed rays
    of a dazzling evening.

  20. Avatarconnielpeters

    Winding Down

    As the evening light softens, I rest and write.
    My fingers tap, tap on plastic lettered keys.
    Many cluttered items are within my sight.
    Photos, phones, books, knick-knacks, wheel chairs, all of these
    Coats lie on the couch back, from heavy to light.
    From the window, a warm (finally) spring breeze.
    Cars roar by as they go off into the night.
    I think, soon, I will fall asleep with ease.

  21. Avatartunesmiff

    THE BLUE HOUR
    G. Smith (BMI)
    •===|∆|===•
    When daylight evens out with the nighttime,
    When the breeze just moves the wind-chime,
    That’s the blue hour, the blue hour;
    The sun sets just below the treeline,
    Before the stars begin to shine,
    That’s the blue hour, the blue hour.

    On the front porch, on the swing,
    When the birds and crickets sing,
    That’s the blur hour, the blue hour.
    With the Moon about to rise,
    Flickering of the fireflies,
    That’s the blue hour, the blue hour.

    It’s that subtle time of day,
    When the memories start to play,
    One on one, they start to weigh,
    ‘Til there’s nothing left to say.

    Chalkline contrail in the sky,
    The only thing that’s up that high;
    That’s the blue hour, the blue hour.
    I know now I should’ve been listening;
    You’re the one that I’ve been missing,
    In the blue hour, the blue hour.

  22. AvatarMET

    Evening Things Out

    She baked a cake…
    It came out lopsided,
    Slightly sad and fallen.
    Crestfallen she fell
    Back in her chair
    And wondered what would she do?

    The light in the attic
    Was turned on with a flick
    And she decided with frosting
    Or icing whatever you wanted to call it
    She could even it out, and
    Just maybe no one would notice.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 26, 2019

    1. AvatarMari Weiss

      I’ll take that piece right there, the one that looks a little odd, (’cause I like the way you evened it out with extra icing, or frosting) 😉

  23. AvatarBer

    Coded Sky

    Red sky shapes the lines
    Fluffed up candyfloss
    Populated in the air above
    What was once white
    Now velvet red
    Scorching like an artist brush
    Flaring natures beauty

    Selection of aircraft
    Highlights your beauty
    Brushing a melting
    Sun glazed scene

    1,9,18 3,18,1,6,20
    18,15,12,12,9,14,7
    Across the breeze
    Coded numbers
    Represent your dance

    Pulling in the night sky
    Shadowing the day left behind
    Beauty so profound
    2,9,18,4,19
    19,8,5,12,20,5,18

  24. AvatarJames Von Hendy

    Eventide

    The western light still lingers in the clouds
    beneath a deep blue sky,
    and here we sit, our candles lit, to see

    a violet shade seep in. Behind it flows
    the inky night. Drawn
    down across the hills it washes in

    to bathe us in a peaceful solitude.
    Across the valley
    the lights from other homes wink on

    and off, hidden among the troughs of trees
    swaying in the wind,
    each, I wish, like ours: a couple sitting

    side by side in the wine dark sea of night,
    its soothing darkness
    absorbing us, an ebb tide to end the day.

  25. AvatarSara McNulty

    Seasoned Evenings

    Evening comes so quickly in Winter,
    we spend most of our nights indoors.
    Summer evenings we can watch stars shimmer.

    On cold nights I think of lamplights glinting
    on sidewalks of boarded up stores.
    Evening comes so quickly in Winter.

    I yearns to hear finches atwitter,
    my pulse quickens, tingles in my core
    Summer evenings we can watch stars shimmer.

    Darkened nights we hear gusts of bitter
    winds. Trees sway, bare limbs dance to Winter’s score.
    Evening comes so quickly in Winter.

    During storms we worry at light’s flicker
    though our stock of candles should reassure.
    Summer evenings we can watch stars shimmer.

    Even the moon looks stretched thinner.
    How many more cold spells can we endure.
    Evening comes so quickly in Winter.
    Summer evenings we can watch stars shimmer.

  26. Avatarmaxie409

    Evening Grosbeak

    My husband comes in to tell me
    the evening grosbeak is back.
    Rushing to the back deck I pray:
    Please don’t fly, don’t fly away.
    I grab the phone. This is news
    worth sharing with our neighbour.
    There it is! At the top of the tree,
    beautiful in his yellow and black.
    The phone in my hand is unnecessary.
    I see my neighbour in her window.
    The smile on her face matches
    the one I feel on my own.
    We raise our hands in greeting
    as the bird rises from the branch
    and flies off to wherever he nests.
    I’m happy in knowing that both
    of these sightings will keep me
    smiling for the rest of the evening.

  27. AvatarDarlene Franklin

    The evening of my mind
    I spend my evenings staring out
    At silent halls which scream aloud
    No chance to see setting suns
    No early stars to wish on
    Imagination conjures
    Coming days’ end in a blur
    I spend my evenings staring out
    At silent halls which scream aloud

  28. AvatarRJ Clarken

    A Nice Night

    “What a nice night for an evening.” ~Steven Wright

    An evening of stars is an evening of ceremony,
    glittery like the celebrities who are bathed in the limelight.
    You’ll see this at every Oscar, Grammy, Emmy and Tony
    O what an evening. O what a nice night.

    Glittery like the celebrities who are bathed in the limelight,
    are all the jewels from Winston and Tiffany.
    O what an evening. O what a nice night.
    Beginning at twilight, is the time for epiphany.

    Are all the jewels from Winston and Tiffany?
    You’ll see them at every Oscar, Grammy, Emmy and Tony.
    Beginning at twilight, is the time for epiphany.
    An evening of stars is an evening of ceremony.

    ###

  29. AvatarAngie5804

    Miles to Go
    A Golden Shovel poem
    “…and miles to go before I sleep” – Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening – Frost

    a breeze stirs up at sunset and
    I need to walk for miles
    streetlights wink on as I get close to
    the edge of the piney woods. I go
    deep to where I’ve been once before
    where we lay on a blanket, he and I
    and watched the stars and did not sleep

  30. AvatarMET

    Between the set of the sun and the rise of the moon

    Evening falls in gossamer webs
    Of light retreating through the trees…
    The dragonfly flits its last flight
    As the Luna moth wakes
    From sleeping
    Hidden as a leaf…
    And honeysuckle, lilies and
    Gardenia perfume the air
    With desire and wanting…
    The birds go to roost
    In hidden nests
    As the sun sucks her light away, and
    The moon on cue
    Rises to play her sonata
    As she waxes and wanes…
    Across the sky with a back drop of
    Stars, velvet sheened sky,
    Planets, and sometimes dancing stars.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 26, 2019

  31. Avatargrcran

    leavening

    glad latter half of p.m. comes at last
    beer-thirty eases into evening time
    no crime to wine and dine, grab stemless glass
    deep red bled from green bottle washes grime
    from brain, ferments, provides a vital leavening
    as daytime pressures fade into sweet evening

    gpr crane

  32. AvatarTaruchaya

    Sunset

    There are people who dream at dawn,
    sleep till sun rises high.
    Wake at nine with a yawn
    and get to work with a sigh.
    Sunrise is for an active person
    who likes to chase the sun.
    Every morning brings new reason
    and lots of work to be done.
    Im a true lover of sunset.
    The citrine glow allures me.
    All worries vanish – nothing to fret
    Evenings are enticingly lovely.
    I love to see the changing sky
    turn yellow to red, orange or pink
    Homeward bound the birds will fly
    Stars will smile and blink.

  33. AvatarAnthony94

    Come Evening

    There’s a leveling out, a sinking
    below, almost below, the horizon
    things flattening into landscape mode

    and we too begin to recline, easing
    backs into porch chairs, lowering a leg
    across the railing contemplating

    when to unhinge elbow and knee
    unfold laps to settle onto mat or mattress
    once full darkness arrives

    stretch frames on wood or foam
    and let ourselves be enveloped
    by that liquid blackness beginning

    to seep from between arms of oaks
    slide from beneath the pines
    rise up from clods in the field

    but for now only evening fits itself
    between the hay bales in the barn
    filters its half light onto the backs

    of milling horses, the goats nibbling
    last leaves by the post, the moment
    a respite between the heaped comforter

    at the foot of the bed and the rocker
    the submission and the anticipation
    the evening and the dark tide.

  34. Avatarwritinglife16

    NIGHT VOICES

    When night falls
    my secrets break free.
    They dance,
    scream and shout.
    They hope that someone
    hears them,
    but I have the voice.

  35. AvatarMET

    Dress Me

    Dress me this evening
    In a gown of black velvet
    With a slit on the side…
    Ahh my red sling back heels
    Can be see…

    Dance with me this evening
    To an Argentine Tango
    With dips and icy fire
    Across the ballroom floor.

    Let me place your fedora
    On your head, before we leave
    For this evening
    To dance until the dawn.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 26, 2019

    1. AvatarLinda Voit

      Hi Mary,
      What a great job of capturing anticipation and intimacy with just the right details. I love a poem in which the words carry their weight like this.

  36. Avatark weber

    So yesterday I asked Twitter friends to send me words for today’s poem without know the promot. I got 29 people to send me 29 words. After seeing the prompt today I starting crafting a poem with those words!

    Thanks to these friends and the words they donated:

    D.R. – prescient
    Marisa – vespertine
    Willie – typhoon
    Aggie – solemnly
    Keef – conflagration
    Cory – revise
    Emery – promiscuous
    Hannah – stilts
    Kim – pulse
    Kyla – lorikeet
    Anna – succulent
    Jessie – subaqueous
    Lisa – ethereal
    Adrian – anticipation
    Todd – threshed
    Cecelia – Applebee’s
    Madeleine – pugnacious
    Richard – felicitous
    Tiffany – begonia
    Sara – cram
    Julie – dazzling
    Rachel – curdle
    Peter – mingled
    D. Nichole – decadent
    Skip – stochastic
    Chris – cherry
    Ski – temper
    Heather – swan
    Andrew – ecstatic

    ——-

    Sundown, Ohio: Summer 20xx

    The begonia basket swings
    in the steamy breeze. Waxy
    petals prove succulent
    against this evening heat.
    This is the root of all our Julys.

    When do these summers turn
    full conflagration? Daylight’s
    cherry skin can’t cool its
    new blister. If we take turns
    on stilts in the decadent dark

    can we loosen a season’s
    stochastic temper? Climb its
    paperwork to the preamble
    and revise? It’s too dark to pursue
    this the pugnacious way. After

    the figurative typhoon leaves
    a faint pulse, we pray for a swan
    or ethereal, subaqueous angels
    to float and wriggle past and put
    wet washcloths on our foreheads.

    But at night even a lorikeet would
    be monochrome or the sooted
    shadow of itself. Suffering. In
    vespertine dreams we wish
    for a felicitous flash of rain.

    We once mingled and relaxed
    below paddle fans. Now the midnight
    milk will curdle as cheap paper
    towels cram themselves into tank
    tops and beneath armpits.

    Our bodies long to go out late,
    move in circles; how grains
    are threshed. Midwestern humidity’s
    not Southern but still dazzling
    with conversation and above-

    ground kisses. It’s so hot I gave up
    being promiscuous. The moon gets
    ecstatic, is always prescient, but can’t
    keep me from solemnly swearing
    in the backyard as I sweat.

    Anticipation for harsh winter
    howls sharply into the smudge
    of a charcoal horizon. Let’s go
    to Applebee’s for appetizers and air
    conditioning before they close.

  37. AvatarLinda Voit

    Evening in Words

    If you want to feel evening –
    each small and universal
    comfort of a day near
    its end — leave this poem
    and go to Jane Kenyon’s
    Let Evening Come.
    Do it now, before
    the sun sets.

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