Potters Hill

Tonight while lilacs bloom and songbirds trill,
when winter's chill no longer taints the glass,
my love and I will dance on Potters Hill.

And laugh we shall to think the whippoorwill,
Impossible, to mourn his mate should pass,
tonight while lilacs bloom and songbirds trill.

Like morning sun that's burst upon the sill,
or brandy spilled on shining amber brass,
my love and I will dance on Potters Hill.

Stark, naked oak and maple trees will fill
their blackened limbs with fiery green en masse,
tonight while lilacs bloom and songbirds trill,

and run we will through fields of daffodils
and trample fast the stems of long green grass.
My love and I will dance on Potters Hill

among the chiseled stone in sunlight till
we waltz on granite steps to our palliasse.
Tonight while lilacs bloom and songbirds trill,
my love and I will dance on Potters Hill.