From my front porch I hear, the music of evening guitars,
Flowing softly on breezes, under the magic of pearl stars,
Busy goldfinches flit singing, and I can glimpse red Mars,
Mellow music of summer, and moonlight's rapture is ours.

Nature draws upon its beauty, from deepest of reservoirs,
Adding to the happy heart's memory, with lasting powers,
A summer night of music, and frog and cricket repertoires,
Such days will be remembered, in hued autumn's memoirs.