The glorious pines stand,
In their battle scarred gowns,
Taller into the starry sky,
Belligerent and brown.

A mystical aura,
Drifting through the air,
Ambrosial and damp,
Complementing the moon’s flair.

Enchanting music plays,
From the orchestras in the sky,
Little flickering fireflies fly,
as the old peaks sit by.

Gurgling creeks of silver flow,
Laden with fish and toads,
As this verdant moss ever so glows,
On these grassy, untraveled roads.

Vines of jasmines of night,
How abundantly do they bloom,
Fragrant but entangled,
In thy eternity of doom.

Ethereally bewitching,
‘Tis a symphony rich and deep,
Night’s an enchantress love,
And all we can do is sleep.