Trees have lost peddles to the wind,
Falling upon dark waters bend,
Where pools lingering in the slow
Catch blossoms and morning shadow,
Where cool waters pause before rush,
Over and down rocks for our walking,
Green grass clears for softly talking,
As the stream gathers to the wide,
Slow and open the sun can’t hide.
Winds too gentle for flowers push,
The warming sun dries the dew drops
Sparkling till a lazy cloud stops;
A last peddle releases its hold,
Spinning down to the quiet cold.