just here beside the damp lakeside
where spiralled ferns do grow
I saw a string of bubbles rise
from deep beneath the dark below

perhaps the grand old pike did pass
across the grey lake bed
disturbing all the other fish
with his jagged teeth and mottled head

the surface ripples died away
returning to opaque
the silver sunlight of the day
that tarnishes as night awakes

the air hung heavy with delight
as gnats swirled round in plumes
an owl swooped overhead, his flight
announced the start of night time's bloom