Summer's Eve

The sun moves westward out of sight;
Its warmth remains to greet the night
When sounds of crickets fill the air
And fireflies venture from each lair
To fascinate in unseen flight
Those who watch their twinkling light.
And from the south a gentle breeze
Ruffles the leaves of maple trees
That try to shade the moon's rich glow
As it reflects the porch below,
And folks are reluctant to leave
Enchantments of a summer's eve.

~ Neil C. Fitzgerald