The Maiden Who Dreamt Of Stars Poem by Nusrat Perveen

Blow past me 'O' breeze across the vale
Blow to fill me and soothe me of my bale
'O' breeze come to me
As you go round the moors and caress the waterfowl
Come and embrace me and allay my wretched soul.

'O' breeze shall I relate to you,
the tale of a highland lass
of her dreams and woes, her approbation and abash.

'O' breeze stay! and I will tell you how her heart would ache
Through those gloomy autumn nights
with her soul craving love and her flesh contending the fake.

And shall I tell you... 'O' breeze!
How along the spring she sat aloof and wept
When you played and brushed the daffodils,
she sat and mourned, for lies and perfidies...
her maiden her could not intercept.

'O' breeze... for far must you blow
Will you take on you this tale
as you wander through the hills, the woods and the dale...
... of the maiden who dreamt of stars,
but, the 'GRAVE' beneath the weeping willow
was as far as she could go!