And Yet... by Leigh Gordon Giltner

The willow wears a wistful green. A dream

Of Summer warmth the wine-sweet breezes hold,

Fair wildings blow--bright buttercups agleam

Like shining sequins scattered on the wold,

And daffodills--a wealth of faery gold.

The building birds their coming bliss presage

With lilt and lyric brimming o'er the page

Of Nature's volume bound in green and gold.

Here 'mid the birds and blossoms 'neath the blue--

My heart unburthened of the old regret--

Let me forget long striving to forget;

For life is sweet to-day and hope seems true--

And yet.