As
daylight settles
in the
west,
twilight
shimmers
over The
Pond.
Lit
wicks of candles
weave to
and fro
in
summers breeze.
The
maestro
taps his
baton
and the
chorus begins.
The
contralto leads
with her
oorrraaah!
Oorrraaah!
Oorrraaah!
I of
course join in
our
voices echoing
through
the garden.
Listening
to our joy
the bad
ass bass
provides
the oomph
from his
rippling throat.
Frog
Music,
lulls
one to sleep
with a
smile on her face
this
sultry summer night.
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