Such a pleasant effect of agreeable sounds
clipping along from the mountain on down.
Bubbling river of words
tumbling over rocks and pebbles
to fields of green clover.
Softly speaking in musical strums
Down to the valley of heavenly drums.
Beating my mind to a place of delusion.
Leaving little to question from this blurry vision.
Scatter the dancers to corners of wood.
Twirl to the middle; transfer partners if I could.
Where is the line of divide in this dance?
Is it touch of a finger or just a slight glance?
Faith shall bring this symphony
across the bridge to euphony.