Least not the warmth, spring tides bloom,
With winter storms, swept falls broom.
Under carpets, of grassy sway.
Bringing our hearts another day.
As the glistening sun, shines the flower tips.
The eyes of morn, whispers from her lips.
As each of us yawn, to drink the day.
And the birds sing our minds away.
Let the spring stay forever.
As I solemnly remember,
Those lost and lonely days.
Of sauntering walks, and playing under skies of grey.
For moments before a rising storm.
The crystal crack of lightning born.