Evening in front of a computer

The day is done and yet it lingers
On the eve of this sultry evening
The wind passes on the house’s eaves
Encourages poets fertile imagining

As the bells of the churches ring
An old love song begin its whispers
The lyrics in the hearts began to sing
And urge the pen to write the verses

Thus I write these stanzas true
To forge the words within this heart
To tell the story long overdue
Of love repudiated and extinguished light

I will begin to tell this tale
Soon on square pads, my elegant quill