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On a day so rare, so precious as this,
it is in-deed a trespass, to disturb such bliss,
temporal virtue, in such splendid scene, so hard to resist,
but pure, as pure, as pure, can be,
beyond this moment, we need to see,
elegant natural truths, silently attach, to you and me,
so gather round my trusty ladies 'n genteel men,
I have a forgotten tale to tell, but yet again,
history conveys, it was all so different then,
A time ago, people once heard, babbling brooks sing,
materialism unknown, there was no such thing,
helping each other, was no disgrace,
people enjoyed, living in grace,
no change of face, in the credit of time,
the bells of religion, still yet to chime,
no need to boost, prestigious personality,
no deceitful cloaks, of personal vanity,
no intellectual priories, contracting infamy,
no false illusions, attached to identity,
'twas a time of freedom, without ego's restraint,
now regarded, as old fashioned 'n quaint,
still, close your mortal eyes, beyond individual notoriety,
discover melodic visions, each note floating, on celestial sea,
laurels of clarity, illuminated, by inner divinity,
waves of glorious innocence, flowing, in sublime beauty,
treasures of eternal oneness, silent tides, in you and me. |
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