Revenge of A lady Scorned

No More lay beneath the linden tree
Or by the orchard grove.
Or by the trickling brook side
Where sweet words of love you wove.

Now old memories will wander
As they have in days before
The ripples splashing love songs
Singing sweetly on the shore

No more the whispering rushes
Or folding wind torn grass
Will whisper words of love to us
In our ears as they blow passed

No more the scented blossom tree
Dropping petals onto our head
Feeling caressing fingers
when hot passions colored red

You still wait beside that Brook
Where so often we did dream
Like before the summer comes
And moonlight brightness gleams

These nights above you bending
Is not the sweet blossom bough
It is the mourning weeping willow
That’s weeping for you now