Gentle Sigh

There is a gentle sigh
as a warm summer evening calls
and lovers slip away
to their hideaways.
The stars twinkle bright
playing peek-a-boo with the moon
and not a stirring word is heard,
except the gentle sigh
that inherits the breeze
that faintly rustles the leaves
on a warm summer evening
just before darkness calls.
The world sings a hushaby melody
to children tucked in their bed
waiting for the sandman to call
and for a few minutes,
everything is still
listening to the gentle sigh
when warm summer evenings call.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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