Sunday, April 13, 2014

Demeter's Tears / Michael Pendragon

April must be a little late this year
The nip of winter lingers in the air
The north wind blows – the trees stand stiff and bare
And earth still wears last autumn's faded brown

The spring comes in a little late this year
No crocus blossoms peeking thru the snow
No pretty maiden tulips in a row
No Easter bonnet blossoms on the vine

Demeter's tears waste all the world away
With wintry frosts they stay the budding leaves
The north wind moans – all nature seems to grieve
While sorrow lines the streets of ev'ry town

My love has gone a million miles away
And stolen springtime's joyful robinsongs
For to another's arms her soul belongs
And blights the stunted dreams that once were mine


Demeter's tears can sting like frozen rain
That pelt the trees and blast the barren ground
Blight summer hopes till men walk bent and bound
Like brittling stalks of last year's harvest grain

Demeter's tears hang silent from the eaves
Of hearth and home – of clock and steeple tow'r
As tho they sought to stay the passing hour
'Til time dissolve like last year's fallen leaves

Demeter's love lies buried 'neath the snow
And all of living joins her in her grief
Save Time and Death – the vulture and the thief!
Who reap her blessings in the world below

Demeter's heart can break like shattered ice
That cuts the lake like grim Atropos' shears
The old world dies and we must pay the price
For life that waits upon Demeter's tears

Michael Pendragon

[All rights reserved by the author - Used with permission]

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