Sunset in West Cork

Late summer, 
with the watercoloured landscape
swept clean with warm, 
and mostly welcome, winds.
The rain demurs,
even allowing striking,
sometimes dazzling,
shards of sunlight
in preparation for the golden glory
of West Cork’s setting sun.

At this September time 
the setting is more precious,
stolen it seems from
the slowly lengthening nights.
Reluctant, as well,
to flaunt its fabled colours
for a longer, or more magic, spell.

And then the glory goes:
gently, gracefully 
beyond the skyline.
Sighing softly
out of sight, and light,
but never out of mind.