Lo! The midnight sky entrancing,
‘Neath the moon the treetops dancing.
Howling in the bitter cold,
The winds of change doth surely blow.
Often I have duly squandered,
Mid-light as my mind has wandered,
The moonlight peeking through the haze,
The clouds absconding it away.
On the breeze the Jasmine lingers,
Swiftly slipping through my fingers.
A presence I could never constrain,
But traces of, I may yet retain.
Indulging my musings at such an hour,
The genesis of thoughts my mind devours.
The frost gently nipping at my ears,
In the twilight of my golden years.