Paul Hartal

Yellow roses swing in the wind
Lonely dogs bark but the wolves prevail
The violin strings snap, protesting
The aloofly silent mind of the nail.

Blue tulips pray with the bells
On the lake white triangles sail
The postman walks slowly, pondering
The silent somber red box of the mail.

Evening descends on the green hills
The trees are wincing along the grey tail
In the dense dark rests the black forest
The silence dreams it screams under a veil.