Last June, before the summer came,
I lost my love,
Now life can never, ever be the same.

My love, before the illness struck,
Had hair of Gold,
And laughter light, and bright as any brook.

And then, before we’d said goodbye,
My love was gone
And dark clouds hid the heavenly sky.

At night, I think I hear her gentle, soothing voice,
“Love of my life,
Don’t grieve. Recall our love and smile, rejoice”

At length, I drift towards a fitful sleep.
My love is near,
I heed her words, and smile; and smiling, weep.