Wounded Heart, Lost
Soul
Wounded heart healing of heartaches
through promises of real flowers;
Lost soul robbed of hope,
wary of the woman's garden.
Through cold winter mornings
sodden fingers grope in the fog,
And in the garden strive to meet love;
which bitterness turns elusive.
Love nor flowers finding not,
hope of heart's healing dies.
Perpetual grief of hope;
shrouds for a lost soul.
(C) Copyright
2000
Michael Chirimuta
All Rights Reserved
