She moves with grace in between ancient rain drops. Dances with bare feet, soft and delicate, to a shamans groove. Her hair of raven midnight black. Long and flowing. A bleeding heart, standing up to windmills and injustices move. Her shimmering eyes, childlike, gazing in eternal wonder. Her beating heart screams the ode to life\'s elusive pleasure. Her smile makes the sun blush and set into the night. And her lips, curved and full, are locked and hide sensual treasure. Passion flower, she blooms and sways in tropical breeze and sun. Passion flower. Her restless, beating heart, always searching. She knows life\'s pain and sorrow and joy and bitter irony. She wanders the streets, wild eyed, with a fragile hymn she\'s softly singing.