The Pond

The Pond Oh golden pond, I gaze at you waiting for your point of view I sit and wait for what will be enticed by rays of light I see Bathed in pink from mornings kiss your waters reflect the skies abyss A crimson orb so real so red softly resting on it's lily pad bed Upon a reed the dragonfly flares just emerging from it's lair In a nest of green upon a log the croaking song of a little frog Bright flecks of gold dart by so free for all the world and me to see Unknown to them beneath the tree who could this hidden menace be? A feathered hunter stalks the shore waiting for just one bite more Alas the darkness saves their stress as the pond starts to redress Bathed in twilight colors bold the lilies of the night unfold White as the creamy moon on high await the moth for a kiss on the fly Evening now, the mist appears bright stars reflect like shrouded spheres Now is the time for a soft adieu I really hate to leave the view. But dawn will come quite soon it's true when all the changing hues anew. Oh golden pond, I have to say what an ending you have given to my day! author: Mary Thompson/Dec 2001