High green chilly winds and windy vines In loops around the twisted shafts of lavender, They're crawling to the sun.
Underfoot the ground is patched With arms of ivy wrapped around the manzanita, Stark and shiny in the breeze.
Wonder who will water all the children of the garden When they sigh about the barren lack of rain and Droop so hungry neath the sky.
William Tell has stretched his bow till it won't stretch No furthermore and/or it may require a change that hasn't come before.
No more time to tell how, this is the season of what, Now is the time of returning with our thought Jewels polished and gleaming. Now is the time past believing the child has relinquished the rein, Now is the test of the boomerang tossed in the night of redeeming.
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