and purple half-light shadows fall
pointing to heaven like spires arise
fir tree and maple tall -
The nesting birds their vespers sing
and chant their luring words of praise
till forest aisles with echoes ring
repeating their roundelays -
Afar the lake with its silvery net
nearer the slope of green-grit hill
slowly the Great-Heart Sun has set
each pulsing voice is still -
But why should I tell of the color I've seen
of valleys misty with drifting dew?
of flashing wings in forest green?
such joys are there for you!
My friend, Lorraine, very kindly
allowed me to use her photo
thank you, Lorraine ...