THE WINTERLY STORY
Well, what should I recall the sad stories for
While my heart is still full of dolor, why more?
How many of those old far-away so unkind
Alas! I haven't been able to erase from my mind!
The grass had worn under your feet in persistence
And your promises had shortened the distance;
I felt in my soul the old merry season to arise,
Intending to speak, but scrupled through tries.
Oh the autumnal breeze moved the footprints alright,
The old sky's clouds were still ample as my plight.
Some leaves softly swung in the evening courtyard,
And smog blurred outside my windows barred.
The blue love letter was stained, the color of tears;
A few pressed yellow flowers tattered through years.
Are those tokens sufficient for one to conceive
So that my innermost feelings seem to grieve.
I told myself the sad stories no longer to relate
(Just deceived my heart, tried the pain to abate!)
However, that winter I did still feel the past span;
That is why the more I try to forget the less I can.