- Books, Literature, and Writing
The Cherry Blossom in November
Is silent, the way to your memory
Is shy, the spark of your eye
Is empty, a kiss with no glory
Is sad, a promise that wouldn't try.
It was, the dream of ages
It was, a road to Neverland
It was, a book without pages
It was, the leaf in every branch.
Became the blossom in November
Became the verse when you lied.
Became the snow in December
Became the love that never died.