Razor sharp winds
needling heavy clouds
perforating
those miserly grey temples
the leaking twilight
beaming warmth
like celestial beacons
reminding Lady Earth
and all her children
the sun is always watching
observing
the mundane and insane
and when it may seem
the bleakest and blackest
the hope of light
is real.
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Paul Writes Poems 
Superbly evoked. I love the mood in this wonderful poem
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Thanks, for taking the time to read and comment. It was my aim to set a strong tone in this poem. I’m glad I achieved that for you.
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You certainly did. I enjoy and derive much from reading and crafting poems of this timbre
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