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PKreturns
Member

since 2003-07-21

Posts 362
New Orleans, LA

0 posted 2004-06-28 01:28 PM

At midnight in the month of June
I stand beneath the silvery moon
The fog flows through and around
As I hear Nature’s mythical sound
From this dream ‘ere do I wake
Walking slowly I behold a lake
Voices murmur softly like angels
From distant mountains and distant dells
I feel terror that is far from fright
As I listen, I fill with delight
Like ghosts, shadows rise and fall
Becoming the night, high as a wall
So great was this solemn loneliness
Like a sweet summer wind’s caress
Something awakens my consciousness, my soul
Like a bell sounding, it begins to toll
That thing like a light, it beckons me
I race along edge of the lake for this melody
Vision of her fills me inside
Rising like thunder, softly it dies
Onward I press, onward I go
Searching while running, and lo,
I behold the creation of this beauty
This paradise, to find, my sacred duty
Like light from jewels floating on black
A vision from mirror uncracked
Immaculate as the morning dew
The vision I behold is you

Marge Tindal