That Seeming Ghost of Fatal Day's Despair

(a villanelle)    
That seeming ghost of fatal day’s despair,    
The spectral flame alighting hill crest trees    
Beneath a patchwork sky of purple flare.    
   
As heart itself cries out to have you there;    
Your eyes spun west to drink before sun flees    
That seeming ghost of fatal day’s despair.    
   
Full orange and yellows madden night’s beware,    
Through twisted turns we shoot the darkened leas      
Beneath a patchwork sky of purple flare.    
   
In passage gained from eve to night aware,    
Your offering of words and tears it frees,    
That seeming ghost of fatal day’s despair.    
   
My dream of gloaming drive remaining bare,    
Alone I drive through ending sun’s unease    
Beneath a patchwork sky of purple flare.    
   
I long for fire that our love blaze declare,  
And brings a raucous night of full appease,    
That seeming ghost of fatal day’s despair    
Beneath a patchwork sky of purple flare.