Slim birches on the river bank
All dressed in white and gold
The wind is from the north west now.
The day is turning cold.
This old boat's the Ghost of Summers Past.
The river smells like rain.
We'll turn once more now to the west .
Into the sun again.
The days are growing shorter
Nights are closing in.
But surely as the winter comes
Spring follows once again
The sun will green the tender leaves
Swallows grace the sky
But for now we watch the shadows fall
Hear the wild geese cry.
And it seems hard times have found us, love.
Hard times we couldn't shake.
Brought us care and stripped us bare.
Left us trembling in their wake
But I can see the light beyond these hills
As the sun slips to the south
Where a warm bed waits, and fire light
And the sweetness of your mouth
And if I have a wish for you
It's not for wealth or treasure
I wish for you the sun and wind
Rain in perfect measure
Sunlight on clean water
Clear starlight in your eyes
And my loving arms to hold you
In the morning.