IN THE MEADOW

 

Moonlight upon the cottonwoods

   Its sweet light will shine,

The sky is filled with array of stars,

   As the grapes turn into wine.

 

In the stillness the fond lays . . .

   Trying to keep warm in the snow,

Winter brings it’s coldness,

   Where the geese flew long ago.

 

In the meadow the wind plays . . .

   Dancing high and low,

Can you hear it’s sweet songs,

   The sweet songs that we all know.

 

Moonlight upon the cottonwoods –

Where time is never understood.

 

Epaphroditus© January 10, 2024