A little bit of poetry from my teens.

The leaves withered and fell to the ground,

And I stood and watched and sang

Of things long past to more astound,

My grieving heart with sorrow wrung. 

And so it was that winter came;

The trees now bare without their mane,

And there stood I with weeping eyes,

To mourn what will not be the same.

Alone I walked the cheerless days,

Alone under the pouring rain,

Alone until my clothes were drenched,

Alone until they dried again.

But on the hills there shone a light,

So great and bright as morning sun.

It pushed away all night and fright,

And showed a field to Joy to run.

I stood no more but ran towards,

That gleaming light on golden hill,

And there I found all I had lost

To Olden Days and world so ill.