Written by: Keith Bickerstaffe

Her soul is cold and dull;
limber limbs grow numb at love's undoing.
Songbirds no longer trill
in gay abandon, sadness spoils their tune.
Winter's blast is coming
with full force, dark days of unfilled longing.

Despair, the too-sharp pang,
unfastens quick the glow of happiness,
defrocks the breast of care
and locks all feeling trapped within the heart
to wither, shorn of hope
that blessed joy will make a re-appearance.

Flowers bear no fragrance,
the gentle breath of leaves blows no repose
for the broken spirit,
till a chance encounter brings the blessing
of a fresh departure,
her heart in blither mood, her soul reborn.