A home song 8

My beloved homeland

I was only fifteen when I bade her goodbye
Stepping out into the night, misty in my eyes
But before the tears would flow,
The sky opened up, and my head went low
I will miss her, whenever I’m not here

Spring was refreshing, with the smell of new
Summer mesmerizing, with flowers of varied hues
Then autumn, a little sadness of a year going by
And winter came, glistening snow