Quiet, Leaves at Play

 



Softly speaking by the bay
on the waves of river sound,
one can hear the leaves at play.

Pins may fall on such a day,
clattering, at odds with ground,
speaking softly by the bay.

Branches knelt; to shush, to pray,
to cater every pillar found,
one can hear the leaves at play,

Their games of tag will never stay
the innocence left all around,
speaking softly by the bay,

Beneath the conifers today,
behind the music box, rewound,
one can hear the leaves at play

Betwixt the tomes of murky spray,
or lullabies in meadow bounds,
speaking softly by the bay
one can hear the leaves at play.