A love lost found in late December
Picked from the memory by the sight of remembrance
Releasing an accent once scented in September
Captivating the mind of harsh November
Twinkle trickle must cripple this dove
Fair love please don’t awaken in me -
Lost before, her sympathetic eyes replied.
Yet, fair sweet hope of light contained in mine
Although it fades yet it cannot die
Although it be lost yet remembrance will find
It chilled, calmed, comforted
Beneath the warm subconscious craving heart.