"Day is ending, shadows are deepening. As I walk along a prairie trail, I hear the strains of an old song by The Platters, 'Heavenly shades of night are falling, it's twilight time. Out of the mist your voice is calling, it's twilight time. When purple colored curtains mark the end of day, I'll hear you, my dear, at twilight time'. The artist in me is painting; my heart is slow dancing in the '50s."

Suzanne Poursine Massion