► Play 'The Black Forest -- a Memory'
Together up the shady winding paths,
Where tall trees sing in slumber's silent tones,
Laughing, we rode our bicycles alone
High into the silent sleeping clouds
That crowned the mountain up whose side we rode.
And the clouds in their waking yawned and stretched and rained
And rained and rained and poured. And we rode on
Until we dribbled and giggled our way
Into a shed, (placed there, no doubt, for us,)
And ate liverwurst on buttered bread.
Where tall trees sing in slumber's silent tones,
Laughing, we rode our bicycles alone
High into the silent sleeping clouds
That crowned the mountain up whose side we rode.
And the clouds in their waking yawned and stretched and rained
And rained and rained and poured. And we rode on
Until we dribbled and giggled our way
Into a shed, (placed there, no doubt, for us,)
And ate liverwurst on buttered bread.
A mostly true story inspired by a trip I took as a wee child through the Black Forest in Germany.
No comments:
Post a Comment