Golden Hour

 

Where golden wheat fields meet the evening sky,

And amber sunlight turns the world to gold,

We walked together in the quiet light,

While summer whispered stories left untold.

The mountains stood beneath the painted clouds,

A red barn rested as the day grew late,

The old windmill turned slowly without sound,

While peaceful shadows gathered at the gate.

No words were spoken in the soft country air,

For stillness held a truth we both could feel;

The wheat bowed gently like a golden sea,

And in your smile, the fleeting world stood still.

A gentle breeze stirred through the endless grain,

Tracing the path where side by side we strayed;

The quiet road stretched outward to the hills,

Beneath the sanctuary evening made.

The last warm ray rested upon your face,

And caught the quiet hope within your eyes;

Between the grounding earth and fading day,

We found a stillness under changing skies.

Two wandering hearts found home within the breeze,

A sudden grace no fleeting hour could rend;

I looked upon you in the golden glow,

And knew I never wanted this to end.

For some rare moments are not meant to fade,

Though seasons turn and shadows longer grow;

They stay preserved within the inner heart,

Where quiet rivers of remembrance flow.

So let the golden fields remember us,

Let winter wind carry our story far-

For love took root beneath an endless sky,

Where wheat fields glowed beneath the evening star.