In the Bleakest of December,
I sought my soul to remember.
The warmth of your touch,
The taste of your lips.
But to my dismay I could find no such feeling.
In the heated rain of the spring time air,
I searched my soul for what I once had,
But in my soul there was nothing but misary and dispair.
The fragrance of the peace and joy you bring,
While listening to the Robin sing.
To lay you down on a silken bed,
While sprinkling Rose Dust around your head.
To see your eyes in an innocent Blue,
Seeing me there to look after you.
Now at the end of this desperate search,
I have found the light of which I yearn.
The truest form of my love for you I have now found,
A crystal example of our love that has left the ground
To stay in this moment, is what I shall do,
To thine own heart be truest to you.