Spring
The finest day of spring
petals dance on sudden gales
counting every one
before the sinking sun
fly, fly little wings
like love that never fails.
Shadows begin to wake
to a chorus that is the night
crickets fiddle, slow
warblers whistle, low
shine, shine velvet moon
till last you fade from sight.
Hear the sea in song
where the swallows play and die
starlight in the haze
flicker fireflies, ablaze
stay, stay gentle dream
beneath the candles in the sky.
~ Luther Lynton Seahand ~
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