The Cricket Report

When the moon glows 'cross the clouds        and When its beams illuminate,     'upon my word, I feel her calling It's the Lady of the Lake. When the waves lap ever gentler      on the rocky whitened shore When the air sounds eerie silent,          her silk flashes as before.  O, the lady     wades in quiet     in a world suffused with blue Deep, and shallow,  Rich and fallow,  Frightened prayers heard o'er the mew. When the moon exhales her last dream     drumbeat fades, no owl larks.  Only water hears the world sing Only Daughter Nature walks.  Peace and kind The Lady wizens  Eyes are bright, cool hands unclasp. When the morn comes,  and the lake smiles,  She returns to sleep at last.      Also in thinking of the cool Lake, 2020, with the tune to Homeward Bound in mind