Hiraeth and Heart
When I am Old
A day, I would be less conscious of Of a sojourn I wouldn't remember When snow would please me none Let my chimney burn with smoke Ere kids gift me lavender berries Let me bake a black forest. My pastel walls would peel off soon And meowing cats would roll off yarns Flowy flocks would not beam With velvety bangs I once had. When my eyes would deny the tint it had And dawn would break with hue less shines Thus, I would lay On this bed of blue bells Grieve me not Youthful as April I had been Remember, A petal withers once But blooms yet again.
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