A tune of sorrow played on fiddle strings,
Unanswered questions haunting midnight’s hour,
The voice of melancholy softly sings,
Beneath the stars that light the lunar bow’r,
All waiting here for warmth that sunrise brings.
With dawn, the fluffy clouds begin their dance,
While chasing rainbows across the blue sky,
The breeze of early spring now takes its chance,
Just flirting with the budding twigs on high,
The coming of life that sings a new romance.
Form: Sicilian Quintains