“BLOOMING DALES” – AN INDULGENCE
No matter what they say,
To utter thwart my day;
No wonder what I do,
To canter past that woe.
A fond touch of yours is
A candle my heart flies to;
A gentle word of yours is
A jingle my senses heed to.
Not too far was the desert of hatred,
Hot too for my lonesome soul to sweat.
Arms of yours were around, I dreamt;
Qualms of mine were asleep, I doubt.
Silent were those nights, yet,
Sonorous with your whispers;
Serene were those sights, but,
Amorous with your whimsies.
Might joy rained overnight, for
Blooming dales to delight the dawn.
Crooning gales encore the lawn to
Light the nights with warmth and cloy.
No matter what they say,
It’s all ill about you.
No wonder what I do,
It’s all in praise of you.