Sweet Quintain
Sweet Quintain, sing to me
of poetry and skies of azure blue;
of sea gulls flying free;
of dawn and morning’s dew
and sunshine as it falls with splendor on the sea.
Sweet Quintain, give to me a tune.
Let it be the song of birds
on a gentle day in June.
Let the melody have words
of a poet’s serenade to the golden moon.
Sweet Quintain, sing more serenades.
Sing with the wind’s soft susurration.
Be the breeze dancing through fields and glades.
Never let there be cessation
as water from mountains freshly cascades.
Sweet Quintain, sing in light of day
and serenade me too well past eventide.
Sing even when a cloudburst comes my way,
for beauties of nature everywhere reside.
Be rain or be a hurricane, but let your music stay.
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