by William Armstrong
Moonlight shone on a California stream.
The countryside looked so quiet and serene.
An owl perched on a high tree limb
surveyed the area where the light was dim.
A wild rabbit scurried across the field alone.
Ears alert because danger might nearby roam.
A slight breeze made the shadows on the land
Move ever so slowly across the trail sand.
It was as if God had just created the world,
And man's handiwork had not yet been unfurled.
But just like the quiet before a great storm,
The quiet was disturbed by a familiar form.
For the time had come for man and beast
To come racing along from the shadows they appeared;
For truth be told it would always happen when
There was reason for El Zorro to ride again.
