by Luis G. Dato

Tonight, the flowers will each one send
Unto the night-borne zephyrs rare perfume,
And down the gleamless alleys of late gloom
The smell of fruit and scent of rose will blends
Tonight, the trees will murmur and will bend
With whispered tales. The dreaming buds will bloom,
From out the dayless slumber of the tomb,
For planet, plant and Heaven comprehend;

Tonight, when bare the moon from hills is
When the last day carousers hone retire,
Together she and I in lover’ s lanes will rove,
Together raise to hungry lips the cup
Where color feeds on color, fire on fire,
And dreams are dim, and love subsists on 1ove.

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