How She Dances

The air is heavy as the day
As dew drops gather
So quiet an dappled
The ploughman comes home
From burdens long
To lay to rest an refuse to mourn
The evening of the winter storm

Oh heaven she opens
Dark rain to manifest
Pouring pouring
As the moon slips behind a cloud
The soul must return
Like a shooting star
Discerning the shadows of the night
She calls she calls

Rainbow fields
No more forlorn
As dew drops glisten
On the sooden clay
How she dances
The winter sun
Like an unbroken melody

The silent conquest of the day.

by Chris McIntosh

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