A Far Cry
The day is very different than it used to be.
Air that once was bitter now is warm and soft.
Birds sing springtime’s sweet and vernal melody
and deep within my heart their song is quickly caught.
The night time tastes of honey now instead of sour
like vinegar to drink in noon day death.
A far cry from the darkness of the hopeless hour
that’s only memory dust of sadness left.
Yet in this new born lovestruck presence here
with kisses all around like angels blessed,
it is return to loneliness I sometimes fear
and then I tell myself to not get stressed.
At times I sit and ponder with contented sigh
how my day has changed by such a far, far cry.
5/5/2021
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