Sleep well, for old memories come in deepest dreams

and quiet passions lie beside the flow of ancient streams

the steps are there upon the edge of a lover's walk

where wild birds fly and even grey skies can talk

though such words mean little to the rising sun

full of himself and of the day begun

A praise of beauty in nature's subtle grin

a beauty that is called upon from a soul within

not the surface and its false and flash array

of gaudy glories that only the eyes replay

but those memories made of the lasting kind

and to which a romantic's soul shall bind

Moreso the cloud-patterned winding streams

where water ripples and daylight gleams

and boats line up around the bend

awaiting husky fishermen to attend

to the rocking of their unsettled bones

still listening for a sea song's echoed tones

Lamp posts high look over a curved dirt lane

where farmer's carts and cows hold reign

hedgegrows scarf-like hug the sides

the passing season's time it bides

through summer's drought and winter's frost

no heed to the bargain or the cost

From the white-washed houses idyllic view

gather happy memories once they knew

during the passing of varied lives within

balanced both with love and sin

but if friends we carry both in hand and heart

the bags we trundle are light as we depart