I hear a distant, gay twittering,
Night's at the edge of the moon;
I see the butterflies flittering,
Spring waits at the edge of June!

I see the myriad blooms invading,
Crowded to edge of forest green;
In their glorious colors parading,
At the fragrance of noonday sheen!

The sun's at the edge of Milky Way,
And earth's at the edge of the sun;
Time lurks the edge of each new day,
'Til the rainbow clashes with sun!

I'm at the edge of plum daydream,
And fireflies go in and out of view;
When sun's at the edge of moonbeams,
Missing those skies of deepest blue!

The fields lie on the edge of gold,
And blue mountain has lost its snow;
Scenic paths are strolled, as of old,
And new dawn's at the edge of glow!