The Arizona Queen of the Night –
She is a most mysterious flower –
The one seen dancing in the moonlight.
The Arizona Queen of the Night –
In a pale gown, appears near June’s height.
Have you been lucky enough to see her –
The Arizona Queen of the Night?
She is a most mysterious flower.
I know a place of silence
Where one can roam about -
Touch the height of peace
And watch the morning crown.
It's a place well-hidden -
Where no worry survives -
Where no thoughts break in
And living hope abides -
Where seraphs may be found
And joy is my raiment -
Where clouds meet the ground
And keep the dewy haven.
It's under mesquite trees -
Over their medusan roots
And in mellow sun rays
And their assuring proofs.
It's by the pale mescals -
Under some tender stalk -
I see the green of the desert
That overcomes the brown –
Clinging to ground and water –
And with gentle affection –
It might reveal some color
Like a yellow persuasion.
I feel the fermenting sun
Calling out the vultures
That fly with a heart of one.
I sense the black jaguar’s stare –
Eyes that have a thirst for blood
And those teeth – a gnashing lair.
Glowing by the moonlight pallor
Are the circles of coyote eyes
Hovering above ground - pair by pair -
Wandering like restless sprights
Seeking for one who's lost their way.
Their banter touches my heartbeat;
My stunted breath rolls out - and I -
I'm glad for their roving company
Near my small chasm where I hide -
But not lost - just gone astray.
Sweet crickets, the tune
You’re playing tempts me to sleep.
By your tune, I will drift off
Better to a place dark and deep.
The low moon and toads
As well as I are your audience.
Why, even the saguaro blooms
Have opened with interest!
The night will soon bend over
And kiss my eyelids closed.
From Earth’s port into the sky
Of oblivion, I will go.
But should I judge your tune
To be my favorite solace
Promise me you’ll return
One night to play for me again.
I know a place of silence
Where one can roam about -
Touch the height of peace
And watch the morning crown.
It's a place well-hidden -
Where no worry survives -
Where no thoughts break in
And living hope abides -
Where seraphs may be found
And joy is my raiment -
Where clouds meet the ground
And keep the dewy haven.
It's under mesquite trees -
Over their medusan roots
And in mellow sun rays
And their assuring proofs.
It's by the pale mescals -
Under some tender stalk -
