The delicate curl of my favorite flower,
reminds me of days long ago--
When I held you in my arms, a weeping child,
caressed your burning cheek--
and sang a song of innocence, the cadence slow, sweet,
as my own tears fell softly onto your tufts of hair--
I had to say goodbye to you, my precious one, my treasure,
my heart--
We were set apart--by circumstance, never had the chance,
to be the flame of love, forever yours--
I wonder where you are now,
As I plant more hyacinths along the path where you
had vanished, on that tragic day--
so very long ago.