Young Love, Poetry

When the people cry in sorrow

When the nation falls in pain

When a hero knows no morrow

When a champion dies in vain

When an apple ‘parts the branches

When the spring is running dry

When the tears of Heaven a- flowing

When not a cloud drifts by

When the sun is clouded over

When the Moon reigns in the sky

When the crow flies o'er Dover

When the stars flick out the lights

When all these horrors strike

Like the viper, curled and sprung

When the final rest draws near

At least we loved when we were young.

June 2010