Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Fall Lake in August


The fall in the river,
     there in the twilight,
     as aspen leaves danced
          in the last light of day,
Conjured a magic
     by virtue of beauty
     and sonorous laughter
          so playful and gay.

While there with my dearest
     we scrambled on pathways
     and crawled upon boulders
          with little to say,
But just our enchantment
     at being together
     and watching the sunset
          while lost in our play.

4 comments:

seemz said...

really nice :)

Jack said...

I concur with seemz, seemed really nice.

Night Writer said...

Reminds me of some Blake:

The Sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring,
To welcome the Spring,
The sky-lark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells cheerful sound,
While our sports shall be seen
On the Echoing Green.

I'm not including the verse about Old John with white hair.

W.B. Picklesworth said...

Thanks, S + J.

As for you, NW, you set my mind to thinking of tygres and chimneysweeps.