Snowdrops...

“When shall we meet again?" I asked…
as we said “goodbye”
and I started to cry…
as I held him close…
And he whispered…
“When the snowdrops bloom again my love”.
“When the snowdrops bloom again”.

“When shall I hold you again?" I asked…
as he pulled away…
that still warm day…
in September…
And he sighed…
“When the crocus bloom again my love”.
“When the crocus bloom again”.

“When shall we kiss again?" I asked…
as I brushed his lips…
with my fingertips…
and made him smile…
As he breathed…
“When the daffodils bloom again my sweet”
“When the daffodils bloom again”

And so I sat and waited…
and dreamed of happy times...
as Februarys winter gave it’s reins to March’s spring.
And one by one...
the snowdrops pushed their heads above the snow…
and the crocus and the daffodils did grow.

Yes the crocus and the daffodils...
and snowdrops...
they all bloomed…
And they hid the silken poppies on his grave.
Yes…
They hid the silken poppies...
on his grave…