She never said goodbye...

  Clothed from the quill of poetic pen
 Like crayons from the grave, resurrected again.  

 Woven from flowers that sprang from the dawn,
 As majestic mountains that grew the fawn,
 Kissed by the wind like a childs alpenglow,
 With a heart full of secrets where colors overflow,
 Time and distance framed her name, 
 Down through the ages  of same

 The Love of the prairie had braided her hair
 By the scent of perfume she left on the air

 The call of the ocean begged her to stay
 But settled for promise of return some day

 The afternoon drink of her seasonal turn 
 Was found in the care of an evergreen fern

 While the pale moon Sat on the evenings cool,
 Love stood in line for a turn at fool,

 She gave all the billowy to the clouds in the sky
 And just like that in the blink of an eye,

Left sodden, with a tear

In his eye,

Left Sodden, the heart of the tree looked on, 

...spring was gone

Missing her.