Lost In Paradise
I passed a field years ago,
On some cold-drawn day in Spring.
I paused a while and wondered,
At the beauty of the thing.
Robed in sunlight, bright with life;
I could scarce believe my eyes.
But I had to hurry on again,
When the lark began her cries.
Oh, how I wished I could go back!
To find that place once more.
To journey back, and there explore
The rural beauty I ne’er but saw.
I got my wish, some years past,
I ventured by and stopped.
My heart soared within me,
Before, like a rock, it dropped.
Gone were the blossoms, fresh and pure.
Dead was the verdant grass.
Long-past was my wonderland,
It was defiled, ruined and crass.
No more did sunlight dance upon it.
No life within rejoiced.
And flown away had the lark,
Whom my last coming voiced.
My eyes stung with tears,
And, though I scarce knew why,
My heavy heart was burdened,
And I turned my face to the sky.
“Paradise is gone,” I cried,
“Paradise is lost.”
And my bitter, lonely tears
Dripped onto the frost.