Autumn Redemption
By George William Daly
Why, in my dreams, do you lay in autumn’s bowered
leaves
And can you still bring the singing wind with only love’s
ancient memory?
Where was that time? And how in the graying years of
time forgotten,
I ask, does any other love drive the down but our love?
Too quiet runs the ancient brook where our love once
played in the browning fall;
And redemption lies far away in the cloudy skies.
And yet, still I listen, as the songs of trees,
Sung with solemn autumn grace,
Where the ghosts of Winter danged with us,
Repeat and repeat to your memory.