The Air On Skin, the Feel of Blossom Trees

A day as warm and bright as in the Spring The pine cones shiver in the gentle breeze. The trees in bud, the birds revel in song Our memories cannot store the very thing The air on skin, the feel of blossom trees A day as dear with light as is the Spring On days like this, once more we do belong And nature will respond to make us pleased The trees in bud, caressed with new bird song. The sounds of earth are silenced when phones ring Our flesh has turned to ashes long deceased A day can take to flight as does the Spring We are betrothed, the bridegroom’s in the wings The new act starts, the play’s by con men seized No consummation now, but for the winged I wish that I had written more to please. And yet the air is fresh and we still breathe A day of charm may revolution bring The trees still bud, yet birds rebel in song.