Painstakingly across the fallow Walking
From all directions, the villagers coming
Unwavering steps, the hamlet behind forsaking
To the river bank, they all were heading.
The moon, the sky still ruling, lambent
Through the wood they all unusually silent
The senesced, vernal as well as the infant
Heedlessly crunching the fall path oddment
By the stream they stood thoroughly expecting
The faintest breeze down vehemently hushing
For the long lost sound carefully watching
A blossoming bud, verdant spring announcing.
Just before cockcrow, stemmed the flower
The long waited , witching creature
Casting sense hexing myrrh
Over the villagers a refreshing zephyr.
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