Grief forgot

The leaves which high above in trees do shake and stir,
not due to breeze which moves but rather mine own thoughts,
which newly ask of warm lit scene, to lend me life.
Too long I wandered out my lonely days, without
the touching pleasure caused by love, I dreamt of things
that own no place in soft lit day, where peace does reign.
The clouds which blown above the Earth do twist and furl,
which spread around the full Sun's arching clear-set blue,
are now less empty breaths of wind, than thoughts of your
lost, painless love, which may not echo through my brain
at least till summer draws its long last life-like shine,
and winter leaves me re-united with my grief.