The sunset turns the river red
And the bridge a pinkish lace,
As the heavenly angels move the clouds
With ballerina grace.

The nightwind whispers by your cheek
River ripples sing a song
And the rhythm of the katydids
Plays a melody, cheerful,long.

There’s a peace descending o’er our camp
As the nightfall wends its way,
And the haloed moon peeps through the trees
To stay ‘til break of day.

© 2001 Jean H. Brydge All Rights Reserved