The Moaning of My Heart
Listen to poem:
I laid my heart upon your grave
That winter day when trees were bare;
Their withered leaves fell down to brave
The chill of winter death and share
With you the frozen ground and air.
Cold tears of rain helped to impart
The gloom, as prayer some comfort gave…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I plucked a crimson rose that lay
Upon your grave as rain fell down
And joined my tears that solemn day.
I held it to my heart to drown
My hurt, then slowly turned around
To numbly make my way to part
And join with loved ones home to pray…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
Then April came on quiet feet
To wake the trees with budding bloom.
Thawed ground gave birth, in Springtime heat,
To grass, that hid the ashen gloom.
Now stung to life by Springtime’s womb,
The golden youth of Earth gives start
To find new hope, new season greet…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I stand in shadow of death's sting;
Oh Dad, why did you have to part?
Help me to heal with reborn Spring…
But, oh, the moaning of my heart.
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
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