With the silent night singing a tune nocturne*

 With the silent night

Singing a tune nocturne

How I go to the Garden
Of our Love ,
Our made and created
Never to be lost
In all dins and bustle
Disquiet where
We never harboured,

There how the blue bird
And the trunk of my tree
Which I planted for Thee
How appeared handsome,
Lovely , as the night slowly
Came onto my eyes, lids
Whence came dropping
Drowsy, drinking thy Beauty
Making way into my heart,
Only to make way to mind,

How the night and the tune
I try to bind
As words come flowing
Like a lullaby from
My mother's lips.

(*Note: upon a painting, as attached, loosely based. Courtesy : Lois Neal-Johnston, Marya Berry)


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