Golden Hour

Written By Elle Drakopoulou



golden hour spills through the forest green
a syrupy glow in soft amber sheen
the trees stand tall, bathed in liquid light
each leaf a flame to the fading night

shadows stretch long, whispering low
the forest hums with the sunlit glow
the air is thick with a honeyed hue
where the day feels old but the sky feels new

branches cradle the sun’s last gleam
rays navigate a path towards moonlit beams
the warmth envelops the crisp so sweet
as day and dusk so gently meet

Elle Drakopoulou
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