The rain has stopped, the sun’s in the sky
And we wait by the gate to see Daddy go by.
He’s off to the fields to sow winter wheat
And maybe he’ll take us along for a treat.
So we’re booted and spurred, with hopes running high,
As we wait by the gate to see Daddy go by.
December 2000
I woke in the night with the full moon still spreading
Her basket of linen on hedgerow and field.
The mistletoe light which the full moon was shedding
A duo of lovers below me revealed.
So youthful their joy in the silver night shining,
So lasting a love in their hearts they concealed.
Oh, who were the lovers in moonlight entwining,
And where are they now in the fullness of years?
To which far-off lands did their life-vessel bear them,
How high were their hopes and how many their fears?
Across the dark storm clouds the white geese are homing,
Across the wide ocean of raptures and tears.
The full moon descending now shines through the window
And falls on the bed where my love lies asleep
Its rays on the pillow her features defining,
As I, in the shadows, the night watches keep.
Oh, we are those lovers bound tightly by moonlight
Through years of pure silver, in harmony deep.
Above the house, against the winter skies,
Bound for the South, alone the heron flies.
In every breathing hour, in all I do,
So fly my thoughts, to seek their South in you.
For Judy in Argentina, 3.12.92
(A grey heron flew over the house today!)
I have a homing instinct for the stars 