Moonside Creek

Let’s go down by Moonside Creek
(The crickets are a-chirping)
Past the bayou long and deep,
And there we’ll pine our hearts away
And dream of yesterday.

Come tread the canepole trail once more,
Dusty twilight evening veil,
The bream are jumping o’er the stars
And splashing make no sound.

Sparkling cinders from the fireside sail
Up and up to twinkle briefly
Against the fading blue afar
As darkness claims my stay.

Whispers of the evening come
And leaves do rustle, mosquitoes hum,
And lofty dreams arise to meet
The moon, doth glow by Moonside Creek.

~~ Ken Gillespie, copyright 2005

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