Beyond the Lay of Years

Years lay over, tilt to shed tears, from eaves of leaves that sway, stay and, stray away to far beyond. Lay, lady, lay. Come allay your fears and I'll let your colors shine, if you'll stay with me, for awhile. Lest, I lay to rest, a wreath for you, for the good times we shared long gone. The years drift away, way out wide on the tide. Marooned as lullabies of lilting longing shadows, echoing woe, and go, betides, way out beyond the breakers, beyond the lay of years. The ring of fresh colored flowers, you once wore around your neck, now lies forlornly lain, as a garland of petals, dropped from a ring of flowers onto the ground. Onto the layers of years, spread out on a mound of tears, never to grow old, beyond the lay of years.