Years Have Sped By

Poems

Songs Unsung
To Hershl

In the depths of my soul

Lay songs unsung - inarticulate. . .

Still I wait

For my belief to give me leave

My songs to liberate . . .

 

Sing of gloom now, should I?

Of my plight? My sorrow so strong?

Perhaps I only would thereby

Drive off eagerness for song!

 

So I'll strive from my anguish,

To sift a modicum of joy, to keep --

To root out and banish

Pent up pangs, hidden deep,

 

My dear Hershl, you have sown

Grass, trees and flowers --

With your efforts -- beauty spread,

So much loveliness created.

 

Sacredly, your devotion hovers . . .

Your roots demand my enduring . . .

Not with tears, but with strength

You dissipate my sorrow, my yearning!

 

So near to me's your body and soul!

All about reminds of you.

Your name enlivens my lips,

I hear your wisdom answer me . . .