Nick’s poem

Soft air takes the promise of joy and paints the world in laughter
For who but paupers would not smile in joy at these summer eves?
To sit amongst sylvan scenes and watch each star open toward earth
For on such nights magic is born to fill warm nights with longing for…
Ancient rites and future hopes that swarm among tall brown boughs
Reach up placing thoughts of all we shall be among melodious angels
Melodious angels saying follow your heart whilst holding my hand
The clear skies bear witness to eternal dreams cast under it embrace