She was both summertime and subtlety
Stitched with woven threads of transparency
Fresh as sheets strung on a line
She smelled of dew and clementines
The cocoa brown of her deep eyes
Sometimes seem to prophesize
That which with the seasons would unfold
A storyteller's soul spinning gold
She was magic dust and daffodils
Announced by birds on windowsills
A liquidity to the stride she kept
Few could guess how long she'd wept
She wore billowy blouses and shed her shoes
Near the breeze of the sea and without clues
Mingled in the briars, the woods, the vines
An evergreen heart by the forested pines
She noticed each petal, each puddle of rain
Stayed in the meadow of her thought's sweet refrain
Certain that time was soon coming her way
She washed her hands in the mist of the bay
And without nearly a reason or warranted notion
Slept in the calm and the call of the air by the ocean
Browned by the egg break of the dawn's yellow sun
She wondered how life had become so undone
Yet she'd bend, as branches do, refusing to break
Seeing a crystal clear reflection of hope on the lake
And when the west wind would rally to kick up it's heels
She'd stroll with defiance headstrong to the fields
The rose of her cheeks, a blush bravely worn
Such beauty to witness, no prick of a thorn
For out there for taking her own fortuned fable
If only for questing, if only, if able
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful way of writing, its a mix of fun and enjoyment...a perfect lemonade: P