she treads lightly into night and day
calm as the summer Epiphyllum
but vibrant as pansies' polonaise
sunrays dare not touch the curls of her hair
and moonbeams refrain to search where she dwells
for heaven knows true where her heart lays bare
should a budding rose to seasons concede?
an eclipse may transpire in breathhold's time
a bough to cling on, to bloom and persist
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