The sea shore blue of operatic sky
Turned to navy then to darkest grey
Dark trees despise the mysteries of light
The holly has its depth unknown to eye
Hiding fragile wrens from birds of prey
The cerulean blue of soothing sky
And in my room upon my bed I try
What words would come,what humour could you say
Oh trees held in the mysteries of light?
The words won’t come,unspeakable the sigh
The weeping of the sick, the donkey’s bray
Depression of Van Gogh. the lowering sky
Oh,mother, why must newborn babies cry?
The Lord ignores, the sheep flee as I pray
The trees hold in the mysteries of light
I meet your eye,I’m feeling drawn and grey
You want my love,I fear the last mistake
In sinking blue of dawn and passive sky
The trees despise the virus and the lies
How my heart sings 