A Lament From The Cally Lake Poem by john (called jack) wren

Spring has gone with silent tongue
and left her with no doting young
eyes filled with tears are shed
across her face they gently tread

A grieving weeping misted cloud
holds her gently in a shroud
hiding the breaking heart
that is tearing her apart.

Is her gloom so unsurpassed
is a heart eased when tears are cast?
oh, to remember former things
like being touched by little wings
and watch them romp and play
until the day they are cast away

The Sun rises, and goes down
the Cally Lake holds on to its frown
in every thing there is a reason
under God's will in in every season.