Green grass and the light sun
Over the cliff of mundane world
Spread out beyond the hues of thought
Of the spiral roads, upon the mountains, wrought.
Songs of merry that birds do sing
Bells the old school down the spark of spring!
Numbers and rhymes - forgotten all,
Dirged beneath years of dusty stroll -
Remembered again, under the tent of blue,
Chirruping flocks - as fresh as morning dew!
The keys are lost, the door is locked,
For ages the silence has grimly mocked -
At the promising skipper of the herd
Who missed the chance to play his card! ...