In springtime
I walk in dappled
shade
Down along
A woodland brook
Where Narcissi grow
And bow their heads
In deference
To the singing stream
In springtime
I walk in dappled
shade
Down along
A woodland brook
Where Narcissi grow
And bow their heads
In deference
To the singing stream
Wisps of White
Decorate the azure blue
Like absent minded
stokes
Of an artist’s brush
While the sunbathes
the land
With its benevolence
When the wind is in the west,
Is the time I like the best
When the wind is in
the west,
I know I can shed my
vest
White as Lunar light
Moonshine birds fly
lonely skies
Where echoes can’t be
heard
The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...