A pie in sky

The distant flute, like whispers in the breeze, Soothes my soul and sets my mind at ease. Autumn’s harvest moon, a golden pie, Hangs in the sky, more rich than dreams gone by. Larks rise high, like notes from heaven’s strings, While storks at dusk hum songs on silver wings. The moon, a mirror of distant shores unseen, A pie in the sky outshines where we have been. A lover stares, lost in the moon’s soft glow, Its beams like threads of love, weaving slow. But dawn’s first light erases all that gleams, A pie in the sky holds stronger than our dreams. Ambitions fly like eagles toward the blue, Wings stretching wide to pierce the heavens true. Yet clouds roll in, veiling what seems, A pie in the sky outlasts our fleeting schemes.