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
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