An ancient river carries your name-
In silver caverns so deep-
A Princess sits crying her heart out-
In the depths of sorrow, she continues to weep.
Calling her name only echos return-
Bleeding hearts are broken into-
Shallow niche's under a rippling spring-
Under paisley skies of colbalt blue.
Come calling my sweetness-
Into the nation of butterfly and bee-
Come calling my beloved-
Come caling, come calling to me.
Aristocrats of ancient lore-
Come knocking -
Come knocking upon your door...
Gifted in inspiration-
Pictures coloured in your head-
Sweet Princess Divine-
Come and love me instead.
Praise be to you my darling-
As your name in the river still flows-
Bordered now by fields of wild daisy-
Allow, my beloved, our sweet love to grow...
Dedicated to: Emily Dickinson (Amherst, Mass)