I had a line but she left
when my pen insulted paper.
The alabaster canvas
wanting nothing of my stains,
sent the line away by screaming.
I lost her
in my pain.

The line flew to the wood
like a fairy sparkling green
and now is lost to wonder
dropping silver magic
round the blooms
on the leaves;
her hiding trick.

If you wander in the wood
keep an eye for me.
When you catch her
please be true.
The line I lost to wonder
belongs to me,
not you!