The Disabled Boy

His knees trembled in the slippery cold Beside the benches dressed with leaves Mother was coming, yes so he's been told To wait in an hour by the dripping trees. Where the Bluejay sang his evening hymn In the light red blowing of the weary breeze So he waited hours till the skies turned dim When the moon hanged idly upon the trees. But not a sight of her in the blue distance So he glided across the glass of the snow To the narrow path of the park's entrance Where the last velvet hues gently blows. His heart alarmed the sad tune of despair He was reminded of his lifelong infirmity Strolling sadly by on the wheels of a chair He feared bitter a death in this vast vanity. He felt on his shoulders a warm embrace Thawing his fears was her loving face.