Memories, oh memories those fine grains of sand

Escape between your fingers to the beating of the band

Murmuring in harmony upon a demure heart

Oh what a lovely pas de deux in which we find our part

Rows of fleeting smiles and a million bluebird skies

A star, bright, sky’s diamond

Yellow, blue, white, green

A shinier object

Mine eyes have not seen

I have not been told

Of a more unique thing

Not light itself, music,

A crystal, a ring

A warm soft breeze blows

The sun descends from the sky.

The scene is peaceful.

You gaze upon it,

And know the sun will return,

Soon in the morning.

The wind and rain, two things I love most. They go hand in hand, the wind and rain. First, the wind blows through and tells the world to be quiet and listen; then the rain comes and washes away horrible things.