When Darkness Hides the Spring
When I am dead who will read
these little songs I sing
when thick the mould presses down
and darkness hides the spring?
My soul so filled with longing,
finds too short life’s little day
to fulfill a lover’s hunger
for earth’s beauteous bouquet.
I think my voice will shout aloud
although they say I’m dead,
and my mute heart will sing until
the grasses tremble overhead.
Copyright, July 20, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
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