A day in April,
when love had claimed another victim,
went quickly to bed.
It folded the sky around the moon
And bled starlight from head to toe,
As a gentle wind
Blew through lilies that rose
Proudly from a soft grave
On an earthly bed
What moment so proud could
be claimed by a father?
It is one and the moon is two,
The sky moved swiftly
Over the meadow,
where soft lilies blew gently
on an old grave
The mother knew secrets
But spoke them not
To the ground or the sky above
But the wind blew coldly over the grass
That, like a sea, was full of waves
And your memories I knew
While the wind boldly blew
Over lilies so true
Across your soft grave

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