Roses in the Snow

Roses, black roses in the snow,
Or from a season yet unknown.
I have walked by them this past,
With the kiss I knew last.
Green graves under the palest sea,
The light that dances silently.

If you hear me weeping,
You might believe that I laugh.
If you hear my laughter,
You may believe that I weep.

Roses in the snow.
They will fade ere the morrow.
Lanterns hang from all of the boughs,
Sapphire mist lies overall,
The night lays her funeral pall,
The stars never seemed so clear.

If I weep you will say
I'm happy now.
If I should laugh
You will search for my tears:
Roses, black roses in the snow.

© 2018 Marten Hoyle