At Dusk on a Summer's Eve
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A Hidden Garden
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Alone in this beautiful garden, I find
A fabric of thoughts left to weave.
My mind wanders aimlessly with the wind
At dusk on a summer's eve.
A cicada's shrill chorus now swells and it falls
As the heat of the evening recedes.
The birds are now silent; they've all gone to sleep
At dusk on a summer's eve.
The roses send wafts of a lovely perfume,
With dew on their petals and leaves.
The air now lies still, with an odor of mulch
At dusk on a summer's eve.
A mighty oak covers the darkening sky;
The stars hold some light they retrieve.
The fireflies still glow in the darkness below,
At dusk on a summer's eve.
A stir of the air sends a cooling breeze;
A refreshing few moments to leave.
But the oppressive heat of the day soon returns,
At dusk on a summer's eve.
The late evening chimes send a clarion call;
Now it's time for this fellow to leave.
A beautiful hymn sends me on my way,
At dusk on a summer's eve.
Copyright © Jay D Weaver - July 23, 2010
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