I sing a song of sunny summer day
Meadow my muse and Puck, my wicked guide
Fishing stick swords and magic steeds bestride
Idyllic afternoons have run away
Swallowed by drear industrious display
Mischief is dead and foolish dreams subside
Where my wistful wondering child haunts chide
Could I faeries and sighing streams betray?
With childhood forgot there is no haven
Naught to do but grieve no joy to leaven
Summer sweeps in to scare terrors and tears
Pixies prevail, all monsters fall craven
Day dreams, sunbeams are manna from heaven
Imagination’s light eye sees no fear
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
about small things, nothings and the somethings in between
No comments:
Post a Comment