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Our Summer Of Love

by Myself

It was the summer of '67;
When we gazed at the sky above.
McKenzie was heard everywhere,
Flowers were in our hair;
It was our Summer of Love.

It was the time of Peace and Love;
As our bodies lived for the day.
We had kaftans to wear,
With ever-growing hair;
And Woodstock still two years away.

We both went off to 'Frisco;
The centre of joy and life.
She had such love and care,
And rainbow coloured hair;
Who then became my wife.

Years have passed; we've settled down;
Those days seem long ago.
My wife's face is fair,
With a little grey in her hair;
But the Summer of Love, we'll always know.

To Jane

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.

As the moon's soft splendour
O'er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had given
It's own.

Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

Love's Secret

by William Blake

Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears:-
Ah! She did depart.

Soon after she was gone from me
A traveller came by,
Silently, invisibly:
He took her with a sigh.

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