The Falling Leaf (Tune: The Raglan Road) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Folk say that grief is a falling leaf
And the bough will soon forget
But the sap's turned sere, since you left, my dear
And unseen my cheek is wet
In the midnight hours, when the moon is king
It's slow the dew drops down
In the pregnant sun we were both as one
I was queen, you were my crown

If blood could wash cruel deeds away
I would open my veins today
To make the grave, return my brave
Young son, from the land of grey
But death's a stone on the house of bone
And I follow your footsteps fast
And the poisoned ache that is love's heart break
Will be stilled and made whole at last