Sing of Summer Days

Sing of Summer Days

Wounded scars still linger here
Though melting on our hearts,
And all thats gone follows near
Though times of missing starts;

And doves that clung round our neck
Are beat by callouse rods,
And our lives are made a wreck--
Their shingles shabby shod.

And the Cherubs no longer bleat
Their sad and lonely courses,
Dry wells of salt no longer weep
Their woeful wrought remorses.

Yet while we both walk down these paths
So ridden with regret,
Lets recall what made us laugh
And made our smiles set.

And yet, though snow may mar our ways
Lets sing our songs of summer days.