It didn't seem quite so urgent then
To lay my Song of Love at his feet;
The buds of Spring were yet to open,
And the song of the robin was sweet

I kept my song safe inside my heart,
I'd give it voice at just the right time,
As enchanting as a full blown rose
Would be the melody and the rhyme

And I rehearsed, a line at a time,
All the while, Fate watched from the back room;
My Song of Love, soon it would be sung
When the lilac trees burst forth in bloom

The lilacs dried, summer changed her dress,
While the hills took on a crimson hue;
No one asked to hear my Song of Love,
And soon the frigid winter winds blew

Now, behind snow-crested mountains,
Summer's sun has begun to descend;
My song lies wrapped in a burial shroud --
A concept it cannot comprehend

My Song of Love still wants to be heard,
"Tomorrow" still vibrates on my tongue;
Alas! tomorrows have come and gone
And my Song of Love remains unsung