Everything was dark,
Sitting under moonlit shade with my back against the bark,
April flowering in colors now hidden and sleeping,
But the night came alive in singing,
The forest in evergreen was awe silencing,
While the lake softly rippling,
With stars twinkling and stippling.
The pink roses drenched in dew gleam,
In my hands and under the moonlight beam,
Fragrance so innocent filling the air,
Quietly and humbly fair,
But a diminutive spasm of loneliness
Momentarily stole happiness.
A lone firefly fluttered across the pastures,
Near the lake to where night raptures,
Its faint glow then disappears,
And once again the night reappears,
Still but yet soothing,
Ridiculous and yet tranquilizing;
I sat there for how long I really don't know,
But like the firefly finding its way aglow,
I too should be on my way,
So I left the roses near the tree to defray
The melancholy left for too long when I let it stay.
