May the night come in silver slippers on the satin floor,
overcoming my eyes, all my senses with a delicate caress,
softly singing a love song
that is vaguely familiar and peacefully consoling.
May I surrender all resistance,
lay aside the toys of the day
and rest my head on her lap
while she blows out the candle
and creates the sacred darkness of sleep.
Shining Spirit 
Roger, Absolutely beautiful! Thanks, KaraGay
Sent from my iPad
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This makes me homesick for our New Hampshire hilltop where we see an unobstructed sunset at the close of everyday–sometimes a ravishing red or hot pink and gold, sometimes a quiet symphony of pastels, sometimes high and wide, sometimes just a whisper above the blue mountains on the western horizon, yet always a surprise and a wonder–a gift that calls for deep thanksgiving. And then the sacred darkness.
P.S. Bill has filled an album to overflowing with photos of sunsets. We score them from1 to 10.