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.