The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil lake, Where weeping willows their quiet vigils keep. A lonely boat drifts by for memory’s sake, While stars their promises to waters deep. An old man sits upon the mossy stone, His flute recalling springs long swept away. The melody speaks of loves he’s known, Beneath this very moon’s eternal ray. The breeze carries the notes across the tide, To where the lotus flowers softly sleep. In every heart where dreams and truths reside, Some memories time alone...

The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil lake, Where weeping willows their quiet vigils keep. A lonely boat drifts by for memory’s sake, While stars their promises to waters deep. An old man sits upon the mossy stone, His flute recalling springs long swept away. The melody speaks of loves he’s known, Beneath this very moon’s eternal ray. The breeze carries the notes across the tide, To where the lotus flowers softly sleep. In every heart where dreams and truths reside, Some memories time alone...