She comes with her own tune
Speaks in her own language
In her stunning low voice
Melancholy is her grammar
And geography is her love
Robed in an emerald green dress
A yellow-leaf border
Stupefied I am -so sprinkling
Her cobalt-blue eyes
Unwind twist of blonde hair
There is a song-an evening song
She sings-even moon listens
Such perfection such control
All things under its bough will be healed
And sing in the new frontiers of happiness
Like the golden billows
Balancing between thick and light
So legendary so fabled
So eye-catchingly endeared.
Fiery tale of a splendid comet
Beauty smudged by time
An alcove of forgetting
Song goes out of the window
Vanished passage-the last song of dusk
A breath that never be breathed again
Thereafter no reply no answer
Her life set by someone else
Get lost in the labyrinth
In the long unending corridor.
Dancing in the dark.