Moonlight and Melodies

    When the eastern moon spreads
    her soft light through my jacaranda tree,
    I know you are near.
    Branches, laden with purple flowers,
    brush against my window
    to wake me, and Evening silently
    arranges her stars above
    the hills covered in goldenrod.
    Beyond my shadowy garden wall,
    where double daisies grow,
    I hear your violin faintly playing--
    Is it Saint-Saëns? The familiar
    melody moves like a secret whisper
    across the landscape, to tell me
    you are content.