There are times when I hear simple melody

And try to place myself in a high tree

So I can hear the simple wail of flutes

Which do float on breezes to my moat



And when the sound arrives at water's edge

I do then jump down and stand on the ledge

As I wait for lyrical and pretty harmony

To come and pamper me with its tease



Of classical bent, or even light jazz

For no matter what, there's much joy had

Just listening to the beauty and magic

Which soothes me so - there's no tragic



Consequences of being thus very moved

For love, respect and admiration ensue

And as I lay back beside the water

And listen to the sounds unquartered



I know in time I will soon partake

Of a meeting - at some pretty lake

And then I will become one with her

And we shall be likewise stirred ...



- Tristram