Thunderstorm

"One more 'bout the Philippines," he raised his hand to ask.
So paused

A moment, thought about that place, last time, the task.
And then by chance

I found a tale, some long thin, winding road;
Like whispers on a quiet night; the way that moon had glowed;

The silver haze upon those hills; the fireflies at night;
Dance, again, I grinned; and then I rose the other night

And heard a rumble down a rocky road to my surprise;
the way I sat upon that porch; the moisture in my eyes.

And then I finished.
O he smiled and nodded thanks again.  Then shook my hand

He wandered 'way.  While O my heart contends
Those shores still wait, that summer breeze,

Mere words cannot express
That look upon your eyes that night, the whiteness
Of your dress.