What fog filled furrows fuse my dreams,
Of summer rains, while autumn gleams,
Into a mist of mem'ried pain,
Of seeds, I shall not sow again.
Now Gravestone bails that stand so bold,
In lonesome fields of fog so cold
It steals my soul as I ramble through,
Engulfs with pain and bond like glue.
What do they know, what could they tell,
Those rolls of hay, wrapped up so well?
A summer's store of sunshine blessed,
Enclosed within a love that rests?
Such heat that lives inside those swirls,
Cannot escape, nor yet unfurls,
Into my heart to live forever,
Grows only in the Land of Never.
I seek the sun to burn the sorrow,
Drink up this veil and light tomorrow,
But the haar enrobes as dark descends,
And my tears ask when the torment ends.
For, what looks so gentle, hurts to touch,