Thanks so much for the wonderful poem.
Good night, dear Hope and rest well, see you tomorrow.
Walking by the Fen at Eve Time
Moving marsh land melodies,
from a tricolor blackbird,
floating upon the evening air.
Soft, the hum of lonely bees.
just a whisper upon the wind I heard,
as I sort out the night sounds with care.
There, off to the left, the drone of a dragonfly,
hunting supper on the wing as eve falls,
and life puts on its somber ebon cloak.
I sit here and listen with a soft sigh,
and watch a Heron hunt in reeds so tall,
for a careless frog who boldly croaks.
Wetland wonders in the gathering gloom,
and I partake of them with a joyous heart,
for these are moments so gently engraved.
The rising moon sets the stage for night’s loom,
where many threads will be woven once a part,
and now bound in memory to be sweetly saved.