The Valley

Bend low, bend low, and hear me out, The valley whispers from deep in the chest, As shadows dance down the valleys, slipping, They spark in honey-sweet sound and flight, And the air blooms with choral whispers, Leaves arise like laughter from beneath my feet. So, where the lights dapple upon the streams, The song, the scent, still lingering remains To bring forth the sweet enchantment, once, That maze of thickets shall never grow old; I’ll drink from the blossom’s chalice, For the songs shall never die—our heartbeats quick, and bold.

• Sidney Keyes