On the days of quiet slumber,
by Alexander Presniakov
when time is at a still.
Then comes a giant thunder and the winds
begin to chill.
In the air is found a dampness,
in the skies rolling black clouds,
to the ground fall droplets,
to form pools all about.
Perhaps its my imagination,
or only my dream.
but every time I see this,
it makes me write a new theme.
To me its inspiration, inspiration is this
to see all of nature in one wedded bliss.