An eddy swirls around my mind,
Rain is gentle, the wind is kind.
Can you hear the green grass sing,
Of morning and of morning’s sting?
I think the silver earth is turning,
And the golden sun is burning.
But how the bronze lights up the night,
Smiling through a window light.
Packed up bags to circus fair,
But the circus wasn’t there.
So dejected we head home to bed,
To say the things we hadn’t said.
Hold the turning earth but once,
Twill give me needed endurance.
And I nod on sleepy words and songs,
In the morning I’ll join the happy throngs.