Brónagh

Brónagh

Brónagh, why are you crying?
Brónagh, why are you sad?
Did he leave you again, like he’s done so often before?
Has he left you again, abandoned, and heart-sore?

Brónagh, is that why you’re crying?
Brónagh, Is that why you’re sad?
Well, I’ve something to tell you: I know how you feel.
I’ve something to tell you that I’ve been trying to conceal.

I see you in my mind’s eye, sunlight streaming through the silk of your dress,
feathers woven through your hair, and it shining,
and you laughing, standing the back garden,
in a blizzard of apple blossom.

Brónagh, don’t be crying.
Brónagh, don’t be sad.
I’m waiting for you. Waiting forever for your sign,
I’m waiting for you, and Brónagh,
I’m crying, I’m crying  too.

Brónagh, Brónagh,
don’t you understand, don’t you see?
Brónagh, Brónagh,
How much you mean to me?

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