And In Her Heart the Dryad Wept

The morning dawned in mist and rain
The trees shrugged off the dew
And scattered it in bitter drops
Tinged in sorrow’s hue.

And in her heart the Dryad wept

The winter ducks, for comfort, massed
A silent, dismal strand,
Along the fringe where sorrow met
The water and the land.

And in her heart the Dryad wept

The seagulls cried in bitterness,
No comfort could they find
Upon the barren, winter beach
The tides had left behind.

And in her heart the Dryad wept

And still in faith the eagle soared
Above the inlet grey
But even he found nothing there
Of prayer or of prey.

And in her heart the Dryad wept