In the crisp of a midnight morning
Through aura of frost-tinted mist
I glimpsed for a moment Utopia
It seemed that such things could exist

No rushing around going nowhere
No ponders on trivia past
Dismissing the folly of others
The good things in life made to last

Creaking of long-seasoned timbers
Yawning in fresh virgin breeze
A welcoming touch of soft moisture
Sets a new day at it’s ease

Through sweet-scented meadows I wander
Summer-song soft in the air
reaching the place I aspire to
and smile as I find that she’s there

Shimmering embers caressing
Hush the sleepy terrain
Whisper with wisdom eternal
Morning shall come once again


About tongnaboot

Just somebody else with time on their hands and a head full of nonsense.
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