At the end of the day <br />when the hues of night <br />are seen by lovers <br />as they stroll to their favourite rendezvous, <br />where the moonbeams dance <br />across the waters of a lazy river <br />and fireflies court in twos. <br />The chorus of the crickets <br />fills the stilled night air <br />as lovers gather in courting <br />here, there and everywhere. <br />The night is filled with whispers <br />of words not to be overheard <br />on a staggered summer evening <br />in a time not far away. <br /> <br />2 March 2009<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-end-of-the-day-14/
