She stood silent in a silent room
Dark of hair and dark of thought
She withholds her eyes
So as not to see
Ten thousand shining notes of Spring
Drifting in through the open door
Singing a sweet song of pleasant climes and times
‘Why should i even try?
It always ends in pain. . .’
Sad thoughts come to mind
But then the crocus. . .
And the jonquil. . .
Twig burgeons spread their promise
Buds born to blossom in breezy air
Relent my Love
Remember how to dance lest this moment pass