Gazebo by the Lake

As I was walking under the setting sun’s painted skies,
The calm glimmering lake sang of a silent romance,
Feet bared on the tender blades of grass,
The skies in hues of gold, pale blue, yellow-reds, and pastel pinks,
The joyous laughter in the distant echoed.

I walked silently, then sat under the ivory covered gazebo,
Watching a swan and her string of ducklings, swim by,
listening to the nightingale’s song like in a Rockwell picture.

I reached down to the wilting rose petals,
velvety soft to tender caress,
The wilted petals had a sweet aroma even in death.
I looked for my lover,
How I wanted her to be with me forever,
But with the haunting knowledge,
I know I’ll never dance in the rain of rose petals again!