When Spring creeps softly in, this year; with apple blossom, pink and white
twining, fragile... in her hair; a sweet and delicate delight;
when banks of daffodils smile golden, swaying in the morning sun,
Will you remember us, my love...
Now that our love affair has run?

When the Bluebell drifts march down across the cool, sun-dappled glades
through the greenwoods...
leaves, soft rustling; where the gentle breeze has strayed
lifting birdsong upwards through the green cathedrals to the sky...
Will you remember us, my love?
What happened, then... to you, and I?

When the Spring melds into Summer skies of azure, wide and high;
competing with the wild cornflowers to match the blueness of your eyes,
and, in her balmy warmth, across the fields...
the skylark's spiralling song;
Will you remember us, my love?
Where did our love affair go wrong?

When the days are drawing in, as Autumn dons her Golden gown;
as the west wind tugs the tree tops, and the flame-streaked leaves spin down,
falling in a golden cloud... like memories that we once knew;
Will you remember us, my love?
For, always... I'll remember you.

When the Winter is upon us; bitter nights of glittering frost.
Her cold wind whimpering in the trees;
it seems almost... for love, thus lost.
The first snowflakes, so gently falling; cloaking all in whiteness... pure,
Will you remember us, my love?
Or are we lost... forever more?

When, at last, Spring comes again, her soft breath driving back the snow
all melting into spidery islands; white, against soft green below;
as fragile, timorous snowdrops bravely struggle
from the woodland floor...
Will you remember us, my love?
Might our love's springtime, bloom once more?