There is a lady I have seen,
So placid in the meadow grass,
While here I sit and watch her lean
On waves of blades in meadow green
To lounge and watch the midday pass.
How tender is this moment here,
Where silence triumphs in the sun
And fills my afternoon with cheer,
And lights this lovely lady near,
That I might write 'til day has done.
But better yet, to bind and chain
This ball of light in midday sky,
To shine upon this meadow plain
And cause this lady to remain,
And keep this day from passing by.
Oh, still the sun does move, alas,
And soon this afternoon must make
Day into dusk, and evening pass,
And still I will sit in the grass
To see the morning sunlight break.
But now I see the girl has gone,
And here I sit in field alone.
For her to leave was surely wrong,
In not inviting me along
With her from grass to class or home.
c. April 1993
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