1. A Mid-Winter Night's Dream

I yearn to stroll the country lanes,
O'er meadows and through vales,
When trees, to hide their naked limbs,
Have donned their summer veils.

Go through the hedge and out across
The green and springing field,
You never know just what will pass,
Nor what adventures yield.

A little snake close to your feet,
Curls up as bold as brass,
It spits defiance e'er it turns
And scurries through the grass.

A hare starts up from underneath
A shelt'ring spreading spruce,
Bounding o'er the rolling fields
He waves his flag of truce.

High in a tree, a little bird,
Singing the whole day long,
Into the balmy summer air,
Pours forth his golden song.

The woods are full of winged forms
That call and pipe and sing,
voicing the thoughts of happy hearts,
They make the forest ring.

A prancing brooklet winds its way
Among the shelt'ring trees,
A pleasant spot to pass the time
Of day in languid ease.

An ancient bullfrog near at hand,
Surveys the tads that scud
Amongst the weeds, to him this world
Is frogs and pads and mud.

A tiny minnow playfully
Swims in and out and through
The waving weeds, with one quick twist
It vanishes from view.

The fleeting hours fast approach
Another waning day,
When Nature shows in colours gay
Her glorious array.

The sun, an incandescent orb,
Sinks down toward the hill,
In reverence to parting day,
The world is calm and still.

The twilight settles o'er the land,
And filters through the trees.
It steals away all cares and woes,
And leaves my heart at ease.

As I walk home with swinging stride,
And near the city lights,
I lovingly recall this day
With all its wondrous sights.

I waken quickly with a start,
And find the fields and stream
Have vanished in the winter air
'Twas nothing but a dream.

Though snow has covered all the land,
A thought comes to my mind.
If Winter's icy breezes blow
Can Spring be far behind?

The warmer days will follow fast,
With beauty fair to see,
Then this will be not just a dream,
But sweet reality.

-- Alec Taylor (ca. 1938)