Longing

Like a barren tree longs for spring,

My lifeless soul yearns for its abode.

 

When the birds sang and branches swayed,

My soul learned its secret song.

 

As summer came it bore new fruit,

My soul nourished with pleasures of hope.

 

But Alas! Winter's here, leaves have fallen,

And my soul has lost its only abode.

 

And emptiness fills the air,

that once was enamoured with your soul.