The quiet pond

 

The sun now fades beyond the crest,
The day falls gently into shade,
The willows dream and sing their best,
Their branches in the pond displayed.

The pond lies frozen, still beneath,
The moon’s soft glow, a silver crown,
It weaves from skies of quiet peace,
With reeds and ripples settled down.

On hilltops high, the deer stand tall,
They gaze in wonder toward the sky,
While near the shore, where shadows fall,
The birds sing soft as night drifts by.

I bow my tear-stained face in prayer,
And sweet old memories flood my mind,
Like whispered hymns upon the air,
That cradle you in dreams, entwined.

Aug 1995