grandma poem

this is the song of youth
the ancient songs
are you alive?
had he and i but met
within my hand i hold
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
into the silent land
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
my true love from her pillow rose
to the passionate lover
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
the saddest of the year
up from the south at break of day
in halls of sleep you wandered by