With unkempt floating hair,
Rather fresh like pine leaves
Smoothly waving down;
Her fair being, a halo round the sun
Made her blush like the moon;
But it was writ to part very soon.
Fortunately, I got smile as she waved
To my dying soul and saved.
Hand in hand, sucked my very soul;
Left me nothingness.
The whole lonely night made me feel
The soft fluffy touch
Of that very living hand
A life it bred to the dry land.
Her very love conceived my barren heart
Fertile it made with poetic art.
The night when falls O dear, I
Tend to have your sweet company.