The trees circle,
‘round my head,
Thinking of the things
You say:
“From mountain high,
down at the base,
there they are,
tiny dancers!
Lights are spinning,
Time to jump for joy,
No better time,
To see.
When the pool,
Tells your hour,
You know precisely you’re
In line.
Everything can’t
Be defined or,
Life would be a tent with
No circus”