"The sky is ink dark,
with flashlights coming
and going, maybe with
luck a shooting star will
pass by you, the lone owl
singing it's nightly song
scarring little animals to hide
further in their hole,
a lost cricket shivering from
the cool night keeps on
singing without missing
a note, but inside the tiny
house there's a bright fire
to warm up the night air
and who knows who
will dream with a "clair de lune"
hearing just a few notes in their
hearts joining together and
dancing to the tune of love...."
