there is a lake at sunrise, too lovely to behold; mist rising from the water, each moment etched in gold.
I love this lake at sunrise, I can see her still; pink clouds over sand dunes, a cottage on a hill.
blueberries grow behind the house, sea shells lie on the sand; wind whips the water into waves, oh how I loved this land!
a blue heron lives in our bayou, I can still hear her cry; wild geese swim among the reeds, or glide across the sky.
the north bayou harbors no houses, just birch trees tall and white; against the blue of lake and sky they stand, a most breathtaking sight.
there is a lake at sunset, when wind and waves do cease; then my lake lies down till she’s smooth as glass, and all is perfect peace.
next stars appear, as if summoned by the loon’s calling; so many twinkling lights I watch, upon the water’s surface falling.
dock lights dot the shoreline, where the water laps the sand; all is quiet on the lake – oh how I love this land!
“And God said, ‘Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.’ And it was so. God called the dry ground “land” and the gathered waters He called “seas.” And God saw that it was good.” (Genesis 1:9-10)
sincerely, Grace Day