Cry of somber horn sounds,

Cloaked in fogs muted cape;

Lonesome and lonely as others answer not.

With greatest of care she lumbers on,

Waning on autumn wind, she cries,

Longing for her groom so long ago parted.

Drawn and weary her soul aches

In hopes with lover soon united.

He waits…

On rocky shore, he waits,

To hear the joyous cry of his bridegroom,

Against cold and crashing spray–he waits

For her voice, it never comes,

He wales…

For his love–he is forlorn.

She is gone.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~