Pale as pearl the garden stands,
Dazed to silence in the phantom light,
Breathless in the spell of summer night.
Dark beyond the arch those shadows wait:
No leaf or petal stirs, no bird awakes.
The heavy-headed blossoms drowse,
Their scent extravagant upon the faded air;
A sudden flurry of the Pipistrelles
Swoops and darts, into the waiting shadow,
Beyond the darkening arch.
Wendy Maitland