The Ache Returns

Oh, I feel autumn's ache

as that next season nears.

My loneliness awakes,

and hope gives way to fears.

I feel the ache growing

as "w" months rear

their ugly, approaching,

gnarled hands that took my dear.

Of, if only this ache

would sleep or disappear.

Springs or summers I'd take

to hold love's mem'ry near.