The moon upon the water with its shim'ring light accentuates the beauty of the summer night. As sleepy songbirds sing their young a lullaby, I watch a white cloud drift across the cobalt sky.
A cooling breeze that moved the leaves has kissed my face, The tree frogs singing serenades are commonplace. Tranquility and peace have paid a visit here, for all the evening sounds are pleasant to my ears.
The sweet perfume of honeysuckle on the air is sending out its puffs of scent to show it's there and as the full moon rises in the sky above, I'm thinking that this lovely night was made for love.
I breathe the moist invigorating air of night and spot a shooting star as it drops out of sight and sitting here beneath the weeping willow tree I'm wondering darling do you ever think of me?
COMING OF SPRING
When first she arrived on the crest of the storm, the door flew wide open, she came to get warm. The snow swirled around her in circles so bold but I bid her welcome, come in from the cold.
Although by the fire side the chill air prevailed so I tried to warm her but all efforts failed. She seemed to be frozen, she shivered and shook but when the storm ended the warmth she forsook.
For rising she ventured once more to the door, each step that she took water dripped on the floor. I woke with a start from a nightmare it seemed the puddles belied it had all been a dream.
Was this a first hint of spring sent to me? A sweet aberration of what was to be?