As I sat outside in the twinkling twilight, the sun just out of sight,
I sat looking at the scenery , the clouds of orange and red,
The very best time, as the world settles down, and all is right,
To ponder the day, all that was done, and all that was said.

Happiness arose inside of me, as I looked on yonder hills,
The valley's green, frogs croaking, a mockingbird chirping a song
Listening to the crickets, the calling of the whip-poor-will's
The softness of green grass, yet without the early dew, as in the dawn.

The shrillness of the Puppies yapping, I'm sure, at they know not what,
Or the hungry cattle eating peacefully, A little calf nursing there.
Children playing hide and seek, or popping a touch-me-not,
All just playing for a little while, and all without a single care.

There's the big old north star, the moon beginning to softly glow,
That old big dipper looking down on me, or at the milky way, he's winking,
That nice springtime wind, just beginning to gently blow,
And the little fire flies, flying around, their little lights just blinking.

I look at that big old oak tree there, maybe a hundred years old, or more,
And it seems it's hard to fathom, the beauty, and the meaning of it all,
Guess we just go on living and loving, as our forefathers did before,
Come to think about it, guess it's not such a mystery after all.

Copyright © Pearlie Duncan Walker
December 24, 1999

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