The Midnight Ball

The Midnight Ball
by
E C Wesch



The fresh cut wood
was left to dry
in the heat of a summer day

A choir of meadowlarks
sing in tune
while the farmer is baling hay

A profusion of colors
arched up high
encircles o'er the land

Giving rise
to the wonders of heaven
as nature lends a helping hand

With acorns gathered
and stored away
the squirrels now have their fun

Now it's time
to focus on
the work that's all been done.

The secrets of
the spirit world
linger in the air

While creatures
settled in harmony
dine on their evening fare

Night time sings
a different tune
mysterious in its call

A secret society emerges
to sing
at The Midnight Ball