Pan is Piping
Pan is piping merriment,
In sunlight spreading fair,
The peacocks in procession,
Mark the notes upon the air.
The melodies in dreamy flow,
His effervescence bold,
A magic emanation,
With an enigmatic hold.
The birds in perfect ecstasy,
Their leader debonair,
The winding throng in open song,
With radiance and flair.
The garden spreads in comeliness,
And gentleness and bliss,
The lilting tune provokes a swoon,
A charismatic kiss.
The buildings lined behind the glen,
Have witnesses in droves,
They seek to spy the fanfare show,
Enlivening the groves.
Heaven’s gateway opens wide,
By conjurations keen,
The peacocks lost in reverie,
Upon the summer green.
For Pan is lord they all applaud,
He leads us into joy!
His graciousness and skill assured,
Such fervour to deploy.
And we will follow till the eve,
Devours the day in dark,
Tis serpentine and swift we weave,
O’er meadow, field and park.
Praise the lilting sacredness!
The call unto the wild!
By Pan’s hypnotic, sweet caress,
Enraptured and beguiled!
adamdaniel 