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The Bay

In the last deep of night

before the birdsong calls the light,

soft, in the garden shadow,

I watch the dark sea below

and I wait the purple and then the gold

to rise from the waters and lively kiss the land,

where the dew sleeps on the nectar

and the blossom waits to fall;

for Spring is slowed under night

new leaf is cooled on the vine,

the fruit buds rest chilled

and the grass quiet-drinks the dew;

there is no wind in the stillness

and calm-quiet in the gardens and grounds,

but voices drift ‘tween the beats of the heart

and my voice speaks there too;

for ‘tis the hour when the old will die

and the fresh new babe is born,

when the young cry for milk

and songs turn to silk

and the lovers call in dreams across the land;

so before this night is broken

while the quiet will carry my words,

between the moon and the sun

all these miles come undone

and this love song will carry to you

David Hallett