Poezja

There Are Fallen Leaves Everywhere
Crying Out as I Walk Over Them
Springs Splendor Long Gone
Summers Fading Glory
Clinging to a Few Last Warm Days
Where Are You, My Love?

Loneliness Drove Me Here to Our River
And the Memories of Happy Times
Do You Think Of Me While You Are so Far Away?
Do You Feel Me Reaching Out to You?
Do You Remember Me?
In My Heart and Mind You Are By My Side

Again I Am Sitting Among Our Trees
They Are Bleeding Bright Yellow, Orange, Copper and Crimson
Proudly Showing Off Autumns Wedding Dresses
Squirrels Rustling Through Carpets of Pale Gold
Preparing For Hard Times
Snow White Ducks Watching Me With Cunning Eyes

This Park Is Closed During Dark Hours, the Sign Says
I Miss You So Much
I Watch the Leaves Traveling Downstream
Like Small Splashes of Blood
They Take My Hopes and Dreams with Them
Do They Ever Reach You?

I Watched the Seasons Come and Go
During this Year of Laughter and Tears
Of Deep Pain and Great Joy
Of Slow Dances and Fervent Poetry
A Year like No Other
Our First or Our Last, Who Could Tell?

I Thank You for the Time with You, My Love
Although I Am Alone
My Heart Still Sings When You Are Near
And My Soul Misses You
I Long For You As Always
And Still I Morn for the “Might Have Been”

Now the Leaves Are Falling Again
Rays of Sunshine Sparkling on the Water
Purple Flowers Spreading Their Children Everywhere
How Many Poems Did I Write About this Place?
I Touch the Reeling of the Bridge
Where You Placed Your Hand Months Ago

The Leaves Are Falling so Fast
I Want to Stop Them, Begging the Trees
To Please Hold On Just a Little Bit Longer
But I Have No Right and I Will Love Them
Barren and Naked Just As Much
Patiently Waiting For Their Return

How Many Dreams and Heartfelt Pleas
Did I Write On Their Leaves
Entrusting the River with My Souls Secrets
Accompanied Only By the Lonely Swan
He Too Is Waiting Here for a Love That Never Comes
No Matter How Long He Tries

Beautiful Lost Soul
Working So Hard All Summer Long
Caring For the Riverbank, Keeping Order
Always By Himself, Isolated
Elegant, Calm, a Picture of Forlorn Perfection
My Heart Aches for Him

Does He Fear Winters Cruel Touch as I Do?
This Park Is Closed During Dark Hours, the Sign Says
Who Will Listen to Us during Long Cold Days
I Cannot Write My Longing in the Snow
For People Will Read it
And They Are Not to Know

This Park Is Closed During Dark Hours, the Sign Says
But Not For Me, Not For the Swan
During My Darkest Hours It Was Open, Always
While Unforgiving Society Drove Us Apart
This Place Welcomed and Sheltered Us
You and I and the Lone Swan Are at Home Here