Summer Sorrow

In the Summer of my years

I wander miles and days

through the golden hills

reflecting on my will

.

These evenings I spend

longing for a friend

a gardener’s loving hands

to help me with my plans

.

There was a girl before

with freckles on her nose

We held so close and swore

we’d always have a home

.

But the seasons took her fast

on the winds of my mistakes

and the home we could have shared

it was never made

.

Now sowing time has passed

Spring will never come again

I wonder what might have been

lying here in bed

.

The pictures that I draw

these lines that I scrawl

trying to mend a crack—

What is it that I lack?

.

Something deep inside

an emptiness that grows

the scar of my neglect—

Will it ever mend?

.

If I build the perfect house

If I paint a masterpiece

If I write a loving book

or just a tender song…

.

Can I find that place

in my heart called home

ere the sighing reaper comes

and Autumn takes its toll?

.

2020