Songs of Nights and Days
Through long, toilsome nights, firelight glows,
Unfolding warmth where the cold wind blows.
A crackling hearth, a back-log bright,
Soft embers burn—a guiding light.
A banjo rings, its melody strong,
Silver notes play through the hills in song.
Across the slopes, where notes fall,
A border ballad sings of all.
A barefoot boy runs through the green,
A summer’s dream—so pure, serene.
While lovers twirl in moon’s embrace,
Wrapped within a bridal grace.
In humble homes, old voices cleave
to an old folk tale of those who grieve.
Yet paths unfold—both low and steep,
Some chase the stars, a dream to keep.
A prayer, a choice is made,
A hope, a confidence conveyed.
Yet love, though bold, at times must yield,
A coquette’s heart, her fate is sealed.
Through golden fields where workers throng,
They raise their voice in labor’s song.
Yet all must end, both bone and breath,
The world sighs low—and sings of death.
WoPoLi 
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