A Desolate Cage

Oh! How I long for the meadow, the tree, the river;
Oh! How I yearn to set my feet upon moss and field.
Rain and cool winds, snow and morning dews;
What I would give to run -to leap!- and cast off my shoes.

I miss the seasons, the smells,
The valleys and the dells;
I miss the crackling of fires
In the night.

Where is my nook
To read my book?
Where is my window
To watch the rain?

The stars! How I miss the stars.
No moon to shine it’s silver lake
Nor grass to watch the night unfold;
No birds to sing the sleep to wake
Nor glistening dusk nor dawn to behold.

How long must I dream a dream of green?
How long before the cool cloud veils all?
For now I wait and dream and read
‘Til at last my sight will nature enthrall.