The breeze whispers through the pine 
                     bringing her soft voice to me.
                        It is carried ever lightly 
                             as I sit alone 
                     'neath sad snow laden boughs. 

                     The trees, tall in their majesty 
                          with arms upraised,
                             ask for love. 
                       For their boughs do bend 
                          as a shoulder shrug.
                       Love me, they cry silently,
                        as stalwart they stand. 

                      The trees sigh in the breeze 
                      with the song of 'her' melody.
                            A longing sigh 
                         for love lost long ago 
                       And they stand and listen 
                             in silent hope.
                       for the return of the one. 

                 And the breeze continues its journey 
              Lightly touching each bough with her voice. 
               And the boughs forever remain saddened 
                      With the loss of yet another.
                        Until, alone, they break 
                               and fall.