The Lake

On each morning, when I awake
I take a walk down to the lake,
and I remember your being there.

All the things I loved so much,
golden hair, soft to touch,
gentle smile, and your skin so fair.

How when emotions troubled me,
and from the world I wished to flee,
then were the times I was feeling down.

You'd then put your hand in mine,
and I knew that all would be fine.
Oh how you could turn me into your clown.

The sun was bright, the birds would sing,
the trees were full, as in the spring.
With you I had no worry and no care.

But the sky is now gray, the birds all gone,
the leaves all scattered across the lawn,
just because you are no longer there.

Waters once pure, have now turned brown,
in them my sorrow I now drown,
and my soul feels the coldness of the air.

In this place where love was found,
now a tear falls to the ground.
Oh how I wish that you were still there.

Paul Allen Rice