Immerses and caresses sun-blushed skin.
White lace curtains billow,
In soft obeisance to an August breeze.
Sunbeams filter sparkling motes,
Into a wood-beamed bedroom sanctuary,
As a bejeweled lake ushers in the soft sound,
Of waves splashing a sandy shore.
Somewhere in the fiery pink, orange and blue horizon,
Haunting, triumphant calls of loons vibrate, emanate,
Owning the dusk, and heralding the setting sun.
All is well as Nature sounds its reign,
Over the cool, pine-scented summer night.