It's a tingle

sounds silly I know

it's the mingling

of satin and snow

it's a tautness

quick to grow

it's in evening's afterglow

it's impossible

it's impossible  

it's impossible

to pin down

            So give up dear

the lightness of life in the early morning is too fey a thing to be grasped

let it slip away

and

it

 is

      beau  ti  ful