Then icicles will droop

Grief , a rain of loving tears  flows down
To match the weather that I see without.
I’ve known good fortune, that I never doubt
So may I  wear my sorrow’s tear- jewelled gown?

When winter comes with frost and fearsome frown
Then icicles will droop where my lips pout.
Grief , a rain of loving tears  flows down
To match the weather that I see without.

I  fear not that the seeds of life will drown
Though they are soft and never scream or shout
Yet  etiquette is  broken by each bout
So I must buy a long dark widow’s gown
Grief , a rain of loving tears  flows down.