My sorrow withers like the scarlet rose
That proudly stood as queen of summers’ field
When the day should fold and finally close
The flower to the night must graceful yield
My sorrow calls me by name in a dream
Of you upon the wild green mountain lee
In your embrace tears are a flooding stream
Dark secrets of my heart must come to be
My sorrow is the word I dare not speak
But for the agony that dwells in you
As human I am strong yet I am weak
I want to weep the tears we never knew
My sorrow grips my heart not just for me
But so the suff'ring one may be released
And every tear upon your face I see
That flow from memories that are deceased
Tread lightly; there are tomb-stones in my heart
Take the flowers you gathered; plant them there
In songs of joy and sorrow play our part
And in the summer day meet me with care
Solo
My sorrow withers like the scarlet rose
That proudly stood as queen of summers’ field
When the day should fold and finally close
The flower to the night must graceful yield
Dedicated to Mom, Christmas 2011.
Copyright Jeffrey Merk 2011
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