For the Lost
When a plaintive refrain
Is heard in the mountains
And palsy paints the rocks
There are always nature’s
Scattered notes of sympathy
Like a bed of snowdrops
Spilling into the valley
Their trembling limbs
Emerging from the frost
Their white petals forming
Lamps for the lost
To find their way
When the climb seems bleak
And the path is lonely
Through winter's dark forest.
Copyright © Diane Leggett | Year Posted 2023
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